I lost my daughter, Sarah, during childbirth last year. She never got to hold her baby, so at 72, I became the sole guardian of my granddaughter, Amy. It isn’t easy, but she’s my whole world. One rainy afternoon, I ducked into a café to feed Amy. Before I could even get her bottle ready, a couple at the next table sneered that “this isn’t a daycare” and told me to leave.
