The night my father-in-law died, my husband Douglas walked in before I could even set down my keys and said I needed to find somewhere else to stay. He told me Craig, his son from his first…
His name was Gerald. Not by choice, exactly, or maybe it was. It begins as a decision and then, somewhere around year two, it stops being a decision at all. Gerald, my father-in-law, had lived with us for six of those years, first in the guest room, then in the converted downstairs bedroom after the … Read more