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

had been a disaster from the moment it started. I kept looking toward the back of the chapel, expecting to see David walk through those doors.

My only son, 35 years old, who hadn’t visited his dying mother once in her final month. His wife, Jessica, had made excuses every time I called. David’s swamped with work, she’d say.

Or, “We’re dealing with our continue reading …