My father, who loved my mother so deeply – and imperfectly – finishes this way. He provides, more than generously. The fruits of his labor reach into the present. Yet he nearly wrecks her with his decline. For five years she has cared for him on her own, in their home. She’s at the end of her rope; no – she has run out of …
April 21, 2021
by jenniferpuryear