In April of 2022, my husband and I moved from Oregon to Tennessee at the bidding of our children, eager to be loving grandparents and to help them with their children. However, over the next two years, the joy we had anticipated turned into a nightmare. Before our move, my son had joined a cult that teaches beating the evil out of children, a disturbing belief that gradually took over his parenting methods. Despite my husband's numerous attempts to talk to our son and steer him away from these harmful teachings, our efforts were in vain. Our son showed complete disrespect towards us, to the point of severe verbal abuse.
During those two years, we spoke to no one about what we witnessed. It was impossible to believe what was happening. We stayed steadfast in prayer and ultimately decided in July 2023 that we needed to distance ourselves from regular interaction with the family to gain wisdom and clarity. We felt so confused and in disbelief by the dysfunction and chaos that was becoming normal to my son.
The familial relations continued to decline as my son and his wife embraced the teachings of the cult more deeply. By November 2023, my husband and I had made the difficult decision to move back to Oregon, planning to leave quietly without saying goodbye, as our relationship with our son had deteriorated so much.
During our 21-month tenure in Tennessee, we began to notice troubling signs—bruises that were hard to explain, behaviors that raised alarms, and the quiet, fearful eyes of our grandchildren that spoke volumes. My five-year-old granddaughter regularly confided in me that their daddy beat them with a big wooden spoon and they had thousands of meltdowns. Her words were accompanied by behaviors from both little granddaughters that increasingly alarmed me, each one a silent cry for help.
As the signs of abuse became undeniable, I sought counsel in search of answers. I consulted with two professionals in law enforcement and our pastor. They all emphasized that federal law mandates reporting any suspected abuse and made it clear that if I didn’t report my son, I would be held accountable for not reporting the abuse. This advice made me shutter but I knew I had no choice.
The defining moment came on January 17, 2024, the last day I had to spend with my little granddaughters before leaving Tennessee on February 1, 2024, to move back to Oregon. We were at Starbucks when I noticed horrific bruises all over my three-year-old granddaughter’s body when helping her to potty. The sight of those bruises left me breathless. I felt my world tilt as I struggled to process the pain and fear etched into my granddaughter's eyes. I asked her if she had fallen. She simply said "no" then my other granddaughter said,"Gigi, I've been telling you this whole time that our daddy beats us with a big wooden spoon and we have thousands of meltdowns." I knew then that I could no longer stand by. My heart was a battlefield, torn between the love I have for my son and the overwhelming need to ensure the safety of his own children. I was caught in a vice, squeezed by the weight of my love for him and the undeniable need to protect my grandchildren.
On January 31, 2024, I made the call to CPS. My hands were trembling. I could barely hold the phone. My voice cracked as I relayed the situation, every word feeling like a betrayal. The operator's calm professionalism contrasted sharply with the storm raging inside me. I felt as though I was betraying my son, exposing our family to scrutiny and judgment. But deep down, I knew this was the only way to stop the cycle of abuse and give my grandchildren a chance at a safer life. She told me the next step was to file a criminal police report against my son.
The very last thing we did on February 1, 2024, as we were leaving Tennessee was to file the police report. Walking into the station, I felt as though the walls were closing in on me. The officer's questions were clinical and necessary, but they cut through me like a knife. I had to recount incidents, describe bruises, hand over the pictures I had taken, and provide details that painted a harrowing picture. Each answer felt like a nail in my son's coffin, and I questioned my decision at every step.
My heart ached for my son, for the boy I raised and loved, for the dreams I had for him that now seemed irrevocably shattered. But my heart also ached for his children, innocent victims in a situation beyond their control. The conflict tore at me—how could a mother do this to her own child? But how could a mother not act to protect her grandchildren?
The aftermath has been a blur of conversations with the CPS agent, interviews by the assigned detective and district attorney, and further strained family dynamics. Although the reports were kept anonymous, the family has become further divided, accusing us of leaving them "disoriented and confounded" by our departure and not allowing us to have any contact with our grandchildren.
Looking back, I understand that bravery doesn't always feel heroic. Sometimes, it feels like heartbreak. It feels like making the hardest choices because they're the right ones, even when every fiber of your being is screaming in pain. My bravest moment was not marked by courage alone, but by an excruciating blend of love, duty, and the desperate hope that someday, my son would understand why I did what I had to do.
In the end, bravery is about facing the impossible and finding the strength to act. For me, it was the strength to prioritize the safety and well-being of my grandchildren, even at the cost of my own heart. It was a moment that redefined my understanding of what it means to be a mother, showing me that love, in its truest form, sometimes requires the hardest of sacrifices.
About Gwen
Gwen is a charismatic and determined visionary. Professionally, she is a wellness coach and entrepreneur.
Raised in Zambia, Africa Gwen’s travels have spanned the globe. She understands cultural diversity and the power of making a global impact.
Forming the Menopause Support Group in 2013 out of her own despair, she never expected that this global impact would span to women all over the world.
Her passion is to inspire women to “cruise” the Menowave with grace, gratitude, confidence, and ease.
Gwen, and her partner Tina, are revolutionizing the menopause journey for women by offering care for the “total” woman with the Menowave Integrated Care Model. They believe menopause is the season to bloom.