After my divorce, my son let me crash on his couch—while gifting a luxury apartment to his mother-in-law. “if you wanted comfort, you should’ve stayed married to dad,” he said. the next day, with just what fit in my pockets, i quietly disappeared. when he found me again, he couldn’t believe what he saw.... At 62, I never imagined I’d be sleeping on a foldout couch in my own son’s living room, my entire life reduced to two suitcases. The divorce papers were still warm from the lawyer’s printer wh