Six years ago, my husband called to say he was stopping by the store on his way home. It was a quiet December evening, just days before Christmas. Dinner was ready, the house was warm, and our children were already talking about presents and bedtime. His voice sounded tired but familiar, filled with the kind of comfort that comes from years of shared life. He promised he would be home soon, joked about the kids’ excitement, and asked me to save him a plate. When the call ended, I had no idea it would be the last time I would hear his voice. An hour passed, then another. His phone went unanswered. By the time night settled fully around the house, a quiet unease replaced my patience, and the life I knew began to slip out of reach. Continue reading…
