Things happened, you're damn right, things happened. 38 years happened. 38 years of sharing and... and crying and dreaming and fighting... and loving and... and children and diapers and... and... school plays and little league. And worrying if you'd get through your gallbladder surgery and wondering if I'd get through another Sunday dinner at your mother's house. And the lean years when the business failed. And the good years and the happy Christmases. All those things happened Stanley and because they happened I deserved better than a stinking phone call from my husband's legal representative. You had a choice Stanley and you took the easy way out and it was a rotten thing to do!