My son didn’t show up at my wife’s funeral. Hours …

like he’d aged 10 years and 3 months. His clothes were wrinkled, his face unshaven, his eyes bloodshot. “Where’s Jessica?”

I asked as I sat down across from him. “She left me,” he said flatly. “Two weeks ago.”

Said she couldn’t handle the stress anymore. Found some guy with money and took off to Florida. I felt a flicker of something that might have continue reading …