They all knew. But none of them would speak of it. It was business as usual. On the surface. By all outward appearances. Perhaps they all thought that if they ignored the elephant in the room, it would eventually turn and go back out the door from whence it came.
Life does not work that way, of course.

His wife baked and cleaned, preparing the home they had shared for one than thirty years in just the same way she had every year. She conferred with him about the toys they would give to their beloved grandchildren. Whether they would prepare and serve the food they had traditionally enjoyed when their children were young and, in recent years, when they returned with their spouses and children to celebrate the various holidays and other milestones.

She stayed busy, puttering in the kitchen, addressing and mailing Christmas cards, preparing baskets of freshly baked treats to share with the neighbors, all of whom had lived in their homes at least as long, if not longer, as they had resided on that quiet street.

During those last weeks, he occasionally helped her with the preparations. And they enjoyed a few outings to the local stores to purchase gifts. However, each such individual trip was brief. Although he never complained, after more than fifty years of marriage, she could tell when he was getting tired. So she would feign displeasure with the store’s selection of merchandise, saying “Oh, this isn’t the kind I want. Let’s go home and we’ll look at the other store tomorrow to see if they have what we want.” Or she would claim that she was feeling tired and suggest that they pay for the items they had selected thus far, offering, “We can come back later in the week. I just didn’t sleep well last night and I’m very tired today. Is that all right with you?” Since he was a gentleman, accustomed to assuring that his wife was comfortable and cared for, he, of course, acceded to her wishes.