I was 73 when I moved into my son’s house – Every time he was taking a bath at 3am, when I peeked in the door, I almost realized the truth.
My name is Margaret. I am 73 years old — a mother who has survived every storm life could possibly bring. I once believed that after my husband’s death, peace would finally find me. I left our old countryside home, built of clay and brick, and moved to the city to live with my only … Read more