Just breath

When I hurt, the depth is such that I find trouble inhaling.  I wish that I could report that those times were few, but in truth, I have often found myself struggling for breath.  Certainly, BioDad gave me many an occasion to strain to breath.

His wife was here this weekend.  A devout wife and devoted grandmother, she makes frequent trips to here... to see both her grandchildren and to visit her deceased husband's grave site.  I don't know how to respond to her grief.  I don't know if she knows the whole story... the whole story about how my father broke his vows, how he bedded a colleague, how I found the photographs... I don't think she knows any of that.  But it is not my place to tell her those things.  I want sometimes to slap her, to educate her, to inform her about his past; I strongly suspect that he lied about the circumstances involving his divorce.  I don't think she had a clue about his infidelity.  Is it my place to tell her to get over him because he was never who she thought he was?  Should she, would she grieve for him if she knew who he truly was?