I honestly thought pulling over that afternoon was just the decent thing to do. An elderly woman in trouble, a wrecked car, a moment of humanity—nothing more. But when my phone rang two days later and my mother practically screamed for me to turn on the TV, I realized that single choice had kicked off something far bigger than a roadside good deed. My wife had been the kind of person who made life feel wide open, like the future was something we could mold with our bare hands. We’d stay up too late in the kitchen talking about Nina’s future, mapping out vacations, laughing at jokes so old and internal they barely made sense anymore. Cancer stole all of that three years ago. It gutted my life in one swift, merciless sweep, leaving me to raise a grieving daughter while stumbling through my own wreckage….CONTINUE READING IN BELOW