I was there on that overcast and chilly April morning, but you didn’t see me. I stayed out of sight. I watched you; saw your every breath and studied your every move. I never could take my eyes off you; even now. Even after everything that happened.

I wondered how many people would show up to pay their respects. Even wondered if you would. Being the emotionally distraught widow, no one would have blamed you if you hadn’t. The funeral procession from the chapel to the gravesite consisted of two police cars, followed by hearse and limousines carrying the immediate family of the deceased and you, Kat McCaffrey, the widow. The services were held graveside at the family burial plot in Cypress Lawn. It was a serene spot located at the top of a small knoll under a stately palm tree.

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