My son won the lottery, kicked me out of the house, and said: “You’re worthless! Go live in a nursing home.” I wandered aimlessly to clear my mind. When I sat down on a bench, a homeless man walked up to me, smiled, and said: “You look just like my late wife…”

“You’re dead,” I said stupidly. “Richard told me you died in a car accident 15 years ago. We had a memorial service. I mourned you.”

Blaine sank onto the bench beside me, careful to keep some distance between us. “Richard told me you died of cancer. Said, ‘You fought it for months, but didn’t want me to know because you didn’t want me to see you suffer.’”Read Wellness Tips

His voice broke completely. “He showed me medical bills, death certificates, everything.”

The pieces started clicking together in my mind with horrible clarity. “When did he tell you this?”

“February 23rd, 2009. Said you’d pass 3 days earlier.” Blaine wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “That was right around the time the business started having financial troubles. Richard said he’d handle everything, that I should focus on grieving.”

My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. “He told me you died February 26th, 2009. Said you’d had a heart attack while driving and crashed into a tree. Closed casket funeral because…”