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My grandparents were the proud parents of ten kids. My father's parents died when I was eight years old. They had seven kids. When the kids were born (on my mother's side of the family) my grandmother up and left and left the kids with my grandfather. My grandfather died when I was 15 years old but I really didn't know him either because I lived in Houston. Eventually two of the girls went to meet their mom. She kept moving from California to Houston. My brother, sister and I were the only three out of forty-three grandchildren who really knew her. Every-time I'd get close to her she'd leave or lie to me. Now she's having a difficult time remembering things.The kids went to Houston to try to bring her to Louisiana but she refused. They wanted to spend time with her but she was worrying about getting back to her husband who has sent her to jail for things he did. Her kids want to help her but she won't come out here for help. She only know three out of the ten kids she have. I wonder how it would have felt to have grandparents. Many of her kids still hold a grudge towards her but she don't really care because she don't know who they are anyway. That is a hurting feeling and maybe some of us wouldn't be the way were are if she or my grandfather were in our lives.

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