But I Was Doing Better
The complacency of grief and the sucker punches it delivers
I was… doing better I mean. So much so, that I was quite content to allow myself to believe I had succeeded in numbing myself to the pain my daughter and her husband inflicted on me.
The pain of a phone call from the demented son-in-law intent on retribution. He told me he had been working towards this for eight years. Why, eight years…