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

My ribs still hurt.

I did not let it show.

“Your Honor, my daughter-in-law says I’m confused.

She says I sold a house in a fit of anger, and that I can’t manage my own affairs.

I’m sixty-eight.

I built roads and bridges in this state for forty years.

Last night, Mr.

Pierce had me examined by two independent physicians.