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

weak. I walked to the front door and opened it.

Yes, it is that simple. Get out. David stood up slowly, his face a mixture of anger and fear.

You’re going to regret this, Dad. We’re your family. When you’re old and sick and alone, don’t come crying to us.

I’m already alone. I said. My wife is dead and my son died long before she did.

They left without continue reading …