Brand New....
& Original...
This is a
BRAND NEW
website!
So, be one of the first few grandparents to share their story with millions of excluded & alienated grandparents
from across the world..
Consult The Experts...
Other
Grandparents!
14th June
Grandparent
Alienation Day
Grandparents everywhere
supporting each other.
Please share your story, be it happy or sad...
Almost one million
grandparents in the UK alone have no access to their grandchildrenwith many millions more across the world.
Let's change that.
Your Photo(if provided)
Your Video(if provided)
SCTN5001
To contact the writer of this story, send an email to OldieRage@gmail.com and simply put SCTN5001 in the Subject Line. You needn't write anything else. You will then recieve a reply giving you the writer's email address so you can contact them directly.
[Sample, for demonstration purposes only]
"If anyone can give us support or any kind of guidance on how we can access our beautiful grandchildren, we'd be so grateful. We never imagined it would come to this.
There was a time when our home was full of noise—small feet running across the floors, laughter echoing from the garden, crayons left on the table no matter how many times we tidied them away. Being grandparents was never something we took lightly. It was a privilege, one we cherished in quiet, ordinary ways: reading bedtime stories, baking on Sunday afternoons, waving them off at the door with a hug that always felt too short.
Now, the silence is overwhelming.
We don’t see them anymore. We don’t hear about their school days, their little triumphs, or the things that make them smile. Birthdays pass, holidays come and go, and we are left wondering how they’ve grown, what they look like now, whether they still remember us at all.
What hurts most is not just the absence—it’s the not knowing why things became this way, or how to fix it. We replay conversations in our minds, searching for the moment everything changed. Were we too opinionated? Did we overstep without realizing? If we did, we would give anything to make it right.
People often assume grandparents will always be there, quietly in the background. But when that connection is cut off, it’s like losing a part of your own life story. These are our grandchildren—our family, our legacy—and being shut out feels like a door has been closed that we’re not allowed to knock on.
We don’t want conflict. We don’t want to take sides. We simply want to love them, to be part of their lives in whatever way is possible. Even a small moment—a phone call, a photograph, a visit in the park—would mean more than we can express.
Until then, we carry on, holding onto memories and hope. Hope that one day, somehow, we will see them again—not as strangers, but as the children we have always loved, and always will.
If you can give us any ideas or suggestions, that would be wonderful. Thank you.
Your Photo(if provided)
Your Video(if provided)
SCTR5002
To contact the writer of this story, send an email to OldieRage@gmail.com and simply put SCTR5002 in the Subject Line. You needn't write anything else. You will then recieve a reply giving you the writer's email address., so you can contact them directly.
[Sample, for demonstration purposes only]
"We had almost given up hope of seeing our beloved grandchildren ever again.
For months, the silence had stretched on—birthdays missed, letters unanswered, photographs returned unopened. Living here in Scotland, so many miles away, we felt the distance more sharply than ever. It wasn’t just geography; it was as though a door had quietly, firmly closed on our place in our grandchildren’s lives.
But we kept trying. We wrote gently, never placing blame. We sent small things—drawings of the garden in spring, pressed flowers, stories about when their parent was young. We wanted them to know that we were still here, still thinking of them, still loving them without condition.
And then, one afternoon, everything changed.
A message came through—brief at first, almost cautious. But it was from them. From our grandchildren. We read it over and over, hardly daring to believe it. That small opening became a conversation, and that conversation slowly, carefully became something more. Trust didn’t return all at once; it grew, like the heather on the hills—quietly, resiliently.
The first time we saw them again, it felt both unfamiliar and completely natural. They were taller, older, with new interests and new ways of speaking—but their smiles were the same. The hug we shared said more than any words could.
We know now that rebuilding takes time. We took some guidance from the various organisations out there to support excluded and alienated grandparents, (there are a few of them, which were helpful but felt generic).
There are still delicate moments, still things left unsaid. But we also know this: patience, kindness, and steady love matter. We didn’t force our way back in—we waited, we listened, and when the door opened even slightly, we stepped through with care.
Now, when they visit, the house feels alive again. Laughter fills the rooms, muddy boots appear by the door, and the kettle is always on. These ordinary moments feel extraordinary to us.
We are simply grateful—to be part of their lives again, to hear their voices, and to know that, even after distance and difficulty, family can find its way back."