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Beverly was crying. Her bosom heaved up and down as each sob wracked her body. "I've got to leave you, Gary. I can't live a lie anymore!" I cradled her in my arms, wiping away the tears streaming down her cheeks, her farm girl freckles magnified by each drop. We sat on the couch, in the third year of our marriage, as I tried to make sense out of what Bev was saying. This often was not easy, as she was no rocket scientist. But Bev's simple, kind nature more than made up for her lack of mental prowess. She loved me truly.

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