I kissed my wife’s cold forehead inside the coffin… and when I opened her closed hand, I found a navy blue button ripped off. I recognized it instantly: it was from my brother Rodrigo’s jacket.

“Your wife died during childbirth… and the baby didn’t survive either.”

Those were the first words my mother said when I stepped into my home, holding a bouquet of white lilies for my wife. Marriage
For three weeks, I had been in Monterrey closing a deal to save our family vineyards. Every night, I imagined coming home to Camila. I imagined her smile, her hands resting on her round belly, her laughing as she told me our son had kicked again.

But when I entered our house in San Miguel de Allende, there was no laughter.

There was only a coffin in the middle of the living room. Funeralplanning services