My Son Struck Me Thirty Times at His Birthday Dinner. The Next Morning, I Sold the Mansion He Thought He Owned.

“She also filed something this afternoon,” Howard said.

I looked at him.

“An emergency petition in probate court.

She’s asking for a temporary guardian over your financial affairs, citing erratic behavior, the sudden sale of a major asset, and your son’s testimony that you’ve been confused.”

“My son’s testimony.”

“A sworn statement.

Signed this morning, an hour before he showed up at your gate.”

For a long time I said nothing.