A year after my wife died, I finally hired a crew to renovate her old office. The contractor called and said, “Sir, you need to come see what we found—but don’t come alone. Bring everyone.” When I got there, my heart almost gave out….
On the first anniversary of Victoria’s death, I bought twelve white roses. I stood in the kitchen turning them in my hands, one stem at a time, thinking how strange it was that a marriage could be reduced to flowers, dates, and the silence left behind. Twelve years. That was all I got with her….
