My mother-in-law pointed at the door during New Year’s dinner and snapped, **“If you don’t like my rules, get out!”** – Welcome

had come to see me married.

My mother was in the front row. I could not see her face from where I stood but I could picture it, that expression of tight, righteous endurance she wore when she believed she was doing something difficult for someone else’s benefit. She was not looking toward the corridor. She was not wondering whether I could hear. The continue reading …