I stood by my pregnant wife’s coffin, trying to play the “strong widower” while our unborn child slept forever inside her. “Just let me look at her one last time,” I whispered to the funeral director.
The first time my wife moved inside her coffin, the entire funeral chapel forgot how to breathe. Even the candle flames seemed to stop flickering, suspended in the heavy air …
I stood by my pregnant wife’s coffin, trying to play the “strong widower” while our unborn child slept forever inside her. “Just let me look at her one last time,” I whispered to the funeral director. Read More