My wife passed away so suddenly that my entire world shattered in a single day. She had been standing in our kitchen just that morning getting ready and reminding me to pick up groceries on my way home from work. By the very next morning she was permanently gone and left an echoing silence in our home. After her funeral ended our house became an entirely unrecognizable place to me. Every single object remained exactly where she had left it including her favorite cup on the counter and her clothes hanging in the closet. Her books still rested on the nightstand beside our bed but it felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the rooms. Her son was still living there with me in that suffocating space. When I first met my wife he was only six years old and she rarely mentioned his biological father who had vanished long ago. Over the years I paid for his schooling and bought his clothes and took him to appointments. Most of our friends considered me a wonderful and supportive stepfather to this boy.