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

I had lost my family too.

By the time I got home, the sun was setting. The farmhouse looked empty without Brenda. The front porch where she used to sit with her coffee. The kitchen where she used to hum old songs while cooking dinner. The bedroom where we used to talk late into the night. Everything felt hollow now.

I walked to the window in the living room and looked out at the fields.