He was the most ordinary, dependable man I ever knew.
That’s what I believed, anyway.
After living through so much, I thought there was very little left that could surprise me.
I was wrong.
It started six months ago, in the spring.
At first, my waistline seemed a little bigger than usual. I noticed it when I was getting dressed for church. My navy skirt pulled a little at the button.
I assumed it was ordinary weight gain. I’d been eating too many of the lemon cookies my neighbor, Dottie, brings over on Thursdays. At my age, everything settles somewhere.
Then my favorite gray trousers stopped fitting.
By June, I couldn’t close the zipper on any pants I owned. I switched to loose cotton dresses, the kind with no waist at all. I told myself it was because of the summer heat.
By August, my stomach was round and hard and swollen, like a woman five months along. Bending down to tie my shoes made me short of breath. Sitting in Robert’s old recliner felt like sitting with a bag of groceries in my lap.Support Causes
