Three hours down the interstate places me in Grants Pass, Oregon, only minutes away from the in-law’s house. One of these trips will end up being the last I make where she and I are there at the same time. It is inevitable. Her mother is so kind and full of hope that to bring our collapsed marriage into their home on Mother’s Day seems almost cruel. She will want to know what is happening. She will only want to hear what she wants to hear. She will ask questions and her heart will break. I will answer her with only the simplest of answers, keeping from her most of the facts and the brunt of the real pain. I will protect her, but still she will feel broken.
Occasionally there are days that I think would feel better if I were wearing the skin of another.