In the middle of a July heat wave, my granddaughter stopped taking off her long-sleeved shirt. It would be ninety degrees in the house, the fan going full blast, and there she would sit, sleeves pulled down to her wrists, sweating and refusing to change into anything cooler. And she would flinch, pull back, every time I reached to hug her or even ruffle her hair. I have raised that girl since she was five, since things fell apart with her mama, and I know my grandbaby. Something was wrong.
Her mother is only supposed to have supervised visits, at the center, the second Saturday of the month. That is what the court ordered. But lately there had been extra time, her mama picking her up here and there, and me allowing it, because you want to believe a mother has turned a corner. And it was after those times that my granddaughter got quiet. Got covered up. Started flinching.
I did not want to see it. God forgive me, for a couple of weeks I told myself it was a shy phase. But the sleeves in the heat, and the flinching, and the way she had gone so small and quiet, I could not keep pretending.
So one evening I sat down next to her, real easy, and asked her, just to push one sleeve up, that was all, and I promised her I would not be angry, no matter what. She looked over at the door like she was scared somebody might hear, and she whispered that her mama grabbed her when she got mad, grabbed her hard, and told her she would never see her grandma again if she told.
She pushed the sleeve up. I am not going to describe what I saw. I will only say that I held that child and told her, over and over, that she was safe, that she did the right thing, that none of it was ever her fault, and that nobody was taking her from me. Not ever.
Then I did what a grandparent has to do. I did not confront her mother, did not give any warning that could make it worse. I called our lawyer that night, and first thing Monday I had my granddaughter seen by her doctor, who documented everything and made the report that people in her position are required to make.
The extra visits stopped that day. The court moved fast once the doctor record was in front of a judge. Her mother is back to supervised only, at the center, with people watching every minute, which is where things should have stayed all along, and I will carry the guilt of allowing that extra time for a long while.
I did not tell because she said you would send me away. I did not want to lose you too.
You will never lose me, I told her. You are stuck with your grandma for good.
She takes her sweaters off now. She wears short sleeves and runs through the sprinkler in the yard like a child ought to. She lets me hug her. She does not flinch anymore. It took time, and a counselor, and a lot of quiet evenings, but my grandbaby came back to me.
Watch the children in your life. Watch for the small wrong things. And when a child finally trusts you enough to whisper, believe her the very first time.