She sounds miserable, and my gut twists. I know Mom means well. But is it bad that I question the veracity of that statement? Because love doesn’t look like standing by as your husband spends his life terrorizing your son. Never physically, mind you. I firmly believe Mom would have left at the first sign of violence. He may never have struck me, but the wounds my father left are buried much deeper. Just as painful, or maybe more since they don’t fade like bruises. Invisible, unless you know where to look. And Mom clearly doesn’t know where to look.
