“Grandma, why does your mouth smell funny?”
Those words hit me harder than anything a grandson ever said.
I laughed it off… but inside, I was crushed.
I brushed twice a day.
Used mouthwash.
Kept gum in my purse.
Still — something was wrong.
My gums were sore most mornings.
My teeth felt weaker every year.
And no matter what I did, my mouth never felt truly clean.
I stopped smiling in photos.
Covered my mouth when I laughed.
And dreaded getting too close when I talked.
The worst part?
I was terrified of the dentist —
the pain, the lectures, the bills.
So I ignored it… hoping brushing harder would somehow fix things.
It didn’t.
One night, standing in front of the mirror with floss in my hand, I realized something unsettling:
Brushing wasn’t the real problem.
I was missing something much deeper.