I Supported My Son For Years—Until They Skipped My 75th Birthday

“Honey, are you okay? You look tired.”

I smiled and told her I was fine. Just getting older.

But Betty knew me too well. She lowered her voice. “Is it Michael?”

I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t want to admit it out loud.

“He’s going through a hard time,” I finally said.

Betty squeezed my hand. “Just make sure you’re not going through one, too.”

I thought continue reading …