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Sally Ryder Brady

Dear Reader,

Awash in grief three weeks after the sudden death of the love-of-my-life, I stumbled on a tangle of secrets. My husband, with whom I had shared my bed, my body, my heart and soul, had had another life, a sex life with men.

I threaded back to our first dance at the Boston Cotillion in 1956 when I was seventeen and Upton eighteen, through a glamorous courtship with champagne and waltzes, incense and confession, commitment and promise. I reviewed our forty-six year marriage, alive with children and careers, rife with conflicting passions, glorious and dangerous. I looked for misread clues as I traced Upton's alcoholism, homophobia, homosexuality and shame.

This bittersweet journey is for me a valentine, a testament to the universal challenges and joys of enduring love.

Happy Valentine's Day,
Sally Ryder Brady
A BOX OF DARKNESS