Grandparents Raising Grandkids: Your Sacrifice is Making a Difference

I moved in with my grandmother when I was 15. She was 78 years old, and things were pretty bad with my parents. My father was struggling with a nasty drug addiction and my mother was dealing with terrible anxiety and depression in the shadow of a nasty divorce. Most of you know this. 

As a teen, though, I can’t recall my grand mother ever buying herself new clothes. She had a handful of outfits. Some sweatpants, a couple sweatshirts, and a yellow dress she wore on Sundays. She didn’t have much jewelry, and she drove the same old Buick my grandfather bought before he died. To be honest, I can’t remember her ever spending money on herself outside of food. 

But I always had money for new clothes, and lunches…