I never told my wife about Margaret. Not because I did not love my wife. I did. Forty-two good years, three children, six grandchildren, a small yellow house with a porch swing she painted blue every spring. When she passed in 2019, I thought the biggest chapter of my life had already closed.
# Part 2 The room seemed to disappear. The chatter of people calling out “Bingo!” and the scrape of folding chairs faded into a distant hum. I stared at Margaret’s …
I never told my wife about Margaret. Not because I did not love my wife. I did. Forty-two good years, three children, six grandchildren, a small yellow house with a porch swing she painted blue every spring. When she passed in 2019, I thought the biggest chapter of my life had already closed. Read More