Susan, thank you for picking me up, I appreciate it. I know you have to head back to school. Thank you both for being here and Paul, thank you for car...ying in my suitcases." There she was playing the victim again, poor, poor Mary. I've seen it so many times through the years.I kissed the girls goodbye and told them I would keep in touch. I wanted them to know I wouldn't be staying married to their mother for very long.The minute they were gone Mary started in. "It's your fault for not going to. A man of 53 years. Brought to tears by a simple song.There were many tears in our lives that year.Sure, I can write about the neighborhood. The boys and girls running around and playing until dark was coming. Carefree and no worries about strangers lurking in the shadows. They were there. They just hadn't visited our lives yet.No, I will write about the night my mom was done. She packed all of us kids up. Put us into the car. We were leaving. The sins of the father had pushed her to her. More

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