That may be the cruelest part of loving someone.
Sometimes the evidence arrives long before you are emotionally willing to accept the conclusion.
I moved into a smaller home twelve miles away.
One floor.
Large windows.
A manageable garden.
Then I did something Michael never expected.
I returned to work.
Only three days a week.
I opened a small consulting practice devoted to fraudulent guardianships and elder financial exploitation.
My first client was seventy-eight.
Her niece had convinced relatives that she was confused.
Ninety thousand dollars had disappeared from her account in eight months.
She sat across from me apologizing.
For getting old.
For trusting family.
For not noticing sooner.
I reached across my desk.
“Stop apologizing.”
She looked up.
“Now show me the statements.”
Six months later, we recovered most of her money.
Then another case arrived.
And another.
Eventually Judge Bennett invited me to speak at a judicial conference about abusive guardianship petitions.
