GRANDPARENTS RAISING GRANDKIDS
The DCF Caseworker Embarrassed Me Right Before I Saw the Judge
She revealed an awful truth
Something changed in me that day.
Words were uttered that I didn’t see coming, and hadn’t considered yet.
I wasn’t ready to hear them.
But they came anyway and hit me like lightning — right out of the blue.
We happened upon each other. My daughter’s caseworker from DCF — Department of Children and Families of Brevard County, Florida — had randomly stopped by to check in with my daughter. Once again, my daughter was playing house in a tent in the woods along the railroad tracks. It was another missed opportunity to document any progress she had made in meeting parenting goals.
When her baby was 7 weeks old, DCF asked me to care for him temporarily and to assist my daughter in completing her case plan for parenting. Why not, I thought. I would help keep the baby out of the foster system while the parents got their act together.
It can’t take too long, right?
Week after week, the caseworker would arrive without notice. I offered apologies for my daughter’s absence. She and her baby’s father preferred the homeless community.
They say everything happens in threes. There may be something to that.
- My marriage was on its last leg, hobbling and fading.
- Our 21-year-old daughter led a high-risk lifestyle, riddled with the nefarious ways of predominately low-level criminals. Her mental illness interfered with good judgment — a volatile relationship produced a baby.
- I had committed to temporarily living in my daughter’s world with no available support.
This caregiver role confuses most people. They make quick determinations based on surface speculations and go on with their lives. Many discount the difficulty and are seemingly unaware of the devotion and dedication required. Even me.
People don’t realize that close to 3 million of us in the United States hold this coveted position.
Yes, I am merely a drop in the ocean of millions.
Some didn’t ask for it.
A chunk of them doesn’t want to do it.
In my mind, I stepped in to help. A caregiver, teacher, mother, and nanny all rolled into one.
I never reconciled that I was an actual grandmother. Avoidance, possibly? I was too young. At 53, I was primed to take on the world, not start over.
November rolled into December, and the next thing I knew it was April.
It became obvious that my daughter would not complete her case file; she barely even started it.
The term, “Permanent Guardian” was bandied about. Would I be willing to take that next step? My heart told me yes.
My brain said divorce, drink wine, and breathe freely again.
As I readied the baby for another Family Court session, my daughter’s caseworker put her hand on my arm and looked into my eyes.
“You need to change one thing before you stand in front of the Judge.”
Her serious tone startled me.
“You keep referring to him as ‘the baby.’ I have yet to hear you say, ‘grandson.’ He is, you know. He’s your grandson and you must proudly proclaim that in court.”
The embarrassment crept up from my toes and reddened my cheeks.
The caseworker was right.
It wasn’t easy.
I felt too young.
Caregiver, yes. Grandmother? No. Grandmother?
No lie, I had to practice calling the baby my grandson. I suspect my protective nature avoided attachment, you know, just in case. Calling the baby my grandson came with painful risks.
I suffered from being pushed away from the process immediately following my grandson’s birth. A controlling woman with a manipulative personality muddied up the waters with her hidden agenda. My daughter bought into the scheme, hook, line, and sinker.
My healing was not in sync with the woman’s eventual exposure, just seven weeks later when he was placed in my care.
I remained guarded.
But my daughter’s caseworker motivated me to do better. To trust and believe — to release the pain and move forward.
Yes, Your Honor, I promise to care for, nurture, guide, and love my grandson.
I slowly crept into my new role. Shifting from simple guardian to grandmother felt foreign, though I was doing the same care with lots of love.
Nothing changed but my title. I began to embrace it.
And, guess what I found?
Lots of support.
Grandparents raising grandchildren comes with incredible responsibility packed with loving rewards.
The court shall retain jurisdiction over the case and the child shall remain in the custody of the permanent guardian unless the order creating the permanent guardianship is modified by the court.
The court shall discontinue regular review hearings and relieve the department of the responsibility for supervising the placement of the child.
Notwithstanding the retention of jurisdiction, the placement shall be considered permanency for the child.
We’ve been together for close to six years now, my grandson and I.
See how easy that was to say?
He is my grandson and I wouldn’t change a thing.
We mold our future leaders to give them, and the world, a chance at greatness.
Grandparents step up for the child, their future, and yours.
Tiredness can be addressed at another time.
Hug a grandparent today.
They make a difference.
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