Six Weeks After My Wife’s Memorial, My Son Said We Were Selling the House Without Knowing I Had Already Moved

cold long after their car has turned the corner. The maple in the front yard has dropped all its leaves. Margaret planted it twenty-three years ago when it was barely a sapling, and I used to tease her that we’d never live to see it reach the eaves. It was well past the eaves now. She never once reminded me I’d been wrong about that.

The pattern established continue reading …