I have never cared for my work. It is too cliched to contemplate, but I took a job with my father-in-law’s company, Lawson Systems Financial Risk Management. I arrived every day at eight and spent nine hours behind my desk in my small office. I brought my lunch and ate it at the desk. I signed papers and drew graphs. There was certainly nothing dramatic in my responsibilities. My work was competent, drawing neither praise nor condemnation.

As I say, I have never cared for my work. But during our son’s upbringing, I applied myself to the job as never before. And an amazing thing happened. I was successful. Raises followed promotions, and respect followed these. I excelled at the not always legal task of peering into the financial lives of others. At times, my duties were more akin to a hacker than a pencil pusher.

A certain tension remained between me and Rachel, but she enjoyed my success. Rode my coattails. I became, in years, a top executive. Rival companies vied to steal me away. But I remained loyal to my own. I reached a plateau where I could rise no higher. Just as Rachel had reached her own plateau with our son. He was too violent, too unpredictable for her to safely manage. After her injury and hospitalization, a change seemed mandated.