Today I invited my ex-daughter-in-law and my grandchildren to Christmas dinner — but I told my son he wasn’t welcome.

Christmas Eve has always been a special time for me. It’s when the family gathers, the laughter of children fills the house, and the scent of home-cooked food warms the air. But this year — just like the last five — things are different. I’ve been preparing dinner with all my love to welcome my ex-daughter-in-law Ana and my grandchildren, but I made it very clear that my son is not invited.

As I season the turkey and set the table, I think about my grandchildren’s happy faces when they arrive. I baked a chocolate cake they love, and I carefully picked out gifts for each of them. I want them to come singing, laughing, and feeling welcome. I want this magical night to be joyful for them, despite everything they’ve gone through.

It wasn’t an easy decision — but it was a necessary one. Ever since my son abandoned Ana and their young children, I haven’t been able to look at him the same way. I called Ana, like I do every year, and invited her and the kids. But I also reminded my son that he shouldn’t show up. I had warned him long ago, after the separation, that I would never accept another daughter-in-law. For me, Ana will always be the one.

My son got divorced five years ago. It was a selfish, cowardly act. He had been seeing another woman for a while, all the while lying to Ana and pretending everything was fine. When their youngest child was barely walking, he packed his bags and left — pressured by an ultimatum from his mistress. He abandoned his wife and his children without looking back.

From the very beginning, I stood by Ana. She was always a loving, caring, hard-working mother and wife. She faced betrayal and abandonment with remarkable strength and dignity. My son, on the other hand, never showed remorse. He pays child support — but what good is money without presence? Children need a father. They need love, stability, and a real family.

A year ago, he got married again. Many thought I would eventually accept the new wife. That I’d play along. But I never intended to. Not long ago, he had another child, and people have asked if I want to meet my “new grandchild.” With all due respect, I don’t need new grandchildren. My grandchildren are Ana’s children. They’re the ones who grew up with me, who run into my arms, who fill this house with joy.

I told him that plainly. One day, I believe he’ll come back, full of regret. But for now, he stays away. And I spend the holidays with those who truly matter — Ana and my grandkids.

My relationship with Ana is beautiful. We call each other often, visit regularly, and spend every holiday together. She devotes her life to her kids, and I, as their grandmother, do everything I can: I care for them, help with their homework, give financial support, and most of all, unconditional love. Over the years, Ana has become more than just an ex-daughter-in-law — she feels like a daughter to me. Her parents live over 600 kilometers away and can’t help much, so I’ve stepped in.

Now the dinner is almost ready. The table is set, the smell of the cake is filling the house, and I’m just waiting for them. My grandchildren and my beloved Ana — the family I chose to keep. I know they’ll arrive with smiles, maybe singing carols, or simply bringing me that warm hug that means more than any gift.

And I know, deep in my heart, that as long as I’m alive, they’ll never be alone. Because real love doesn’t end with divorce. Because this grandmother will always be here for them. Because this house is still their home — and this Christmas still belongs to them.