Last week I had to drive my son daily to a community-organized youth camp during spring vacation. I had to sit mostly idle all day as no more volunteers were needed. I took my laptop and books to read, but I spent many hours with other parents and grandparents. I developed a little conversation line with an eighty-eight-year-old grandma from Bosnia who migrated to the USA during turmoil there. I liked her outlook on various issues in life. Last day she shared something very personal and threw a curveball at me.
"In the context of marriage, relationships, and love, spousal cheating usually doesn't matter when you are 88. My husband was a perpetual cheater. I took it as he was a good father and provider and always treated me well. Unfortunately, I cheated on him, too, when we were separated due to war for three years. Eventually, we shared all details. At this age, what mattered only, we hung together till the end and raised good kids and grandkids."
(for some reason, this post stayed in draft for the last 10 years)
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