You hear muffled sounds through the wall and find him sitting on his hallway floor, looking completely drained. "I tried to cook her favorite meal today. Thought maybe it would help me feel closer to her, but I just... I couldn't even get through chopping the onions without breaking down."

His voice is barely a whisper. "Everything in that kitchen reminds me of Sunday mornings when she'd dance around in my t-shirt making pancakes. Now I can't even make toast without remembering."