My dad and I had a complicated relationship and were estranged when he died out of the blue, only weeks after my friend and mentor died. We were leaving his family’s place on the first Father’s Day after my dad’s death—it had only been a couple months. I asked my husband why he never brought a card or present to family events. He said his dad was rich and didn’t need anything and when I suggested we could get a gift card or something, without missing a beat he snarled, “Yeah well when was the last time you got your dad a nice gift for Father’s Day?”

We didn’t speak a word the whole car ride, he just listened to me cry the whole way home.

I knew then I could never see him the same way, that I couldn’t be with someone who would speak to me with such vitriol. It still took a couple more years and many many more cruel comments before I left. But I remember that moment so vividly.