Raising Cainia

 

The cop sat at our kitchen table with us. Emely and I were tiered. We had not expected this late night visit. The officer seemed relaxed, happy perhaps to be in from the cold for a few Minuits. He smiled and his face suddenly looked boyish. He was in his late twenties may be early thirties.

“We thought the call was a bit bogus when it came in. This is obviously not a kidnapping and your temporary custody papers are in order.” He went on to tell us that our situation was not at all unusual. More and more grandparents were finding themselves bringing up their grandchildren. He shook his head, a look of puzzlement drifted across his face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with my generation. “ He said. “Some of us just can’t seem to handle responsibility.”

He ducked his head in on Cainia on his way out. She was sound asleep tucked up with woofy and puff. This was the start of a custody battle, a shot across the bow. Cainia’s mother was out on bail in another state and had placed a call to our local police department accusing her own mother of kidnapping. Torn inside as she was Emaly had made her decision. She would rest her granddaughter from a neglectful parenting situation, fight her own daughter if necessary, and raise Cainia herself.

 

 

“Raising Cainia,” is a call for help, a shout out to others in a similar position, a holding hands and sharing of information, and a celebration of that most precious gift our children.