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Because she had done everything alone.
No husband. No boyfriend. No secret relationship anyone could point to and make sense of. My grandfather had passed away twelve years earlier after forty years of marriage, and Grandma had never dated anyone afterward. She still wore her wedding ring. She still spoke to his framed photograph every morning while making coffee.
She told the family only after she was already five months pregnant, standing in her garden in loose clothing that could no longer hide her growing stomach.
I still remember the silence after she admitted it.
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