My Grandson Made Me Sleep on the Yoga Mat Not to Pay for a Hotel, Less than 24 Hours Later Karma Hit Him Back
At 87, I raised my grandson Tyler from birth after his mother, my daughter, died and his father vanished. I poured everything—love, my baker’s salary, my pension—into him. Now 32, Tyler lives in my house, contributing nothing, hiding behind a “spiritual” facade of meditation and chakras while dodging work and hosting shady friends. When he invited me on a Charleston weekend trip with his girlfriend Willow, I hoped to reconnect. Instead, we stayed in a rundown apartment, and they gave me a yoga mat on the floor, citing their need for “protected energy.” My arthritis screamed, but I endured, hurt by their disregard.
The next morning, at a gas station, police arrested Tyler for wire fraud and identity theft, using my name and credit for scams. Willow fled without a word. At the station, Tyler demanded I lie to save him, claiming I owed him for not putting me in a nursing home. Furious, I refused—he’d betrayed the sacrifices I made raising him. An officer, recognizing me from my old bakery where I’d given him free cookies as a child, drove me home, fixed my lock, and restored my faith. Tyler faces consequences, but kindness, I learned, returns when you least expect it
