After My Wife’s Funeral, I Opened The Storage Door She’d Kept Me Out Of For 37 Years. Then My Son

I stared at him.

“The will?”

“Yes,” he said flatly. “The farm. The estate. We need to figure out what happens now.”

I could not believe what I was hearing. His mother had just been buried, and all he cared about was money. I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell him how disgusted I was. But I was too tired, too broken.

“Not today, Dennis,” I said quietly.

He frowned.

“Dad, we cannot avoid this forever.”

“Not today,” I said.

He sighed, then turned and walked away without another word.

I watched him leave. I watched my only son walk out of that church without looking back.

And I realized something in that moment.

I had lost more than just my wife.