My husband was lying ten feet away in a polished wooden casket, and our only son still hadn’t arrived.
I checked the chapel doors again.
Nothing.
Our only son still hadn’t arrived.
***
Richard had fought cancer for 11 months. During the last three, he could barely lift his tea without both hands.
Daniel should have been beside us through all of it.
Instead, four months before Richard died, I came home from the pharmacy to find our wedding photograph shattered on the hallway floor.
Richard had fought cancer for 11 months.
Daniel stood beside it with a suitcase.