Raising a grandson

YOU'D THINK THAT AT AGE 60, having an 11-month-old baby arrive "on your doorstep" for you to raise would turn into a chore. Especially if you were actively engaged in a business in Miami as a talent agent in film production, which required your presence at work 16 hours a day. But raising our grandson wasn't a chore—it was a lightbeam of joy. It was like an awakening of a new love.

Little baby Roc was our daughter's son. Her husband, who was a doctor from Peru, hadn't wanted her to have the baby in the first place and insisted that they put the baby up for adoption. My husband, Ken, and I just couldn't understand this decision and were heartsick about it. However, the day Roc was born—when the nurse brought us into the room to see all the new babies—my daughter saw her baby and changed her mind and decided to keep him.

When our son-in-law learned of her decision, he became angry and left his wife and baby and went to Seville, Spain, for more schooling. Soon our daughter followed him, bringing the baby with her. She returned when Roc was 11 months old because her husband wanted a divorce. Then she left Roc with us and went elsewhere to look for work.

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April 8, 2002
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