On April 8, 1988, it all went wrong. I would later call that day the “beginning of woes.” After a full day at work, I walked into our home shortly past 5 o’clock and noticed the missing piano in our living room. I immediately knew what Had happened. My wife of nine years decided she had enough: it was time to leave. A simple note was left on the kitchen table. It read, “You’re right; we can’t go on like this. I’ll call you later.” I had shared those sad sentiments about our marriage impasse a few weeks earlier, not knowing how those words would haunt me for years to come.