I’m 60 years old, and after many months without seeing each other, I decided to visit my son’s family I had missed them terribly, but the moment I walked through the door, I froze.
My daughter-in-law, Carmen (32), looked exhausted: her hair hastily tied back in a messy bun, her face pale, with deep dark circles under her eyes that betrayed sleepless nights. The house was a mess: toys scattered everywhere, children running and screaming. And my son, Javier (33), was sprawled on the couch, swiping his phone…
