Everything changed. But it was the sadness that brought us together.

“I don’t know why I woke up that night. I looked over at her, sleeping, hair spread out across her pillow. Peaceful. Beautiful. My wife.

Wendy and I met in high school. We did the whole long-distance thing all through college. I’m still not sure how our relationship survived those days. She loved me despite myself. Despite the pain I caused her. She taught me what unconditional love meant. Her selfless nature would come to define her among those whose lives she intersected. She stuck with me while I nearly destroyed my life with alcohol and drugs. But grace invaded my world when I wasn’t expecting it. God got my attention at the age of 22, and I gave my life to Him. Everything changed. I asked Wendy to be my wife two weeks later, and we were married the following year.

Newlyweds take dramatic photos while sitting in a park in their dress and tuxedo with yellow flowers — Amy Fiedler Photography

Here I was, nearly 13 years later. Life was good, life was…comfortable. Our marriage was strong, far from perfect, but never better. We’d been blessed with four amazing kids – all boys. Wendy was a healthy, vibrant 36-year-old in the prime of her life. We had just moved to a new house and it felt like we were starting a new chapter in life, a chapter I was eager to see unfold.

Then I heard her take a breath.

It didn’t sound right, more like a gasp than a breath. I decided to wake her, gently nudging her and whispering her name ‘Wen, wake up. Wen, wake up babe.’

Nothing. I shook her, started screaming her name, pleading with her to wake up. But there was no response. My mind struggled with the reality of it all. I called 9-1-1. No pulse. Her breathing had stopped. I performed CPR until help arrived. Sheriffs, EMTs, a whole team of strangers in my bedroom doing everything they could to save her. Nothing was working. I saw the looks on their faces. I could feel her slipping away, and I was struggling to hold it together. They took her to the hospital where they were somehow able to restart her heart, but only for matter of hours, she never regained consciousness. On the morning of March 17, 2017, her heart gave out for the last time. She was gone.

Young parents take blue-and-yellow-themed photoshoot with their four children — Defining 78 Photography

Riding home from the hospital with my dad on that dreary morning, watching the sleet hit the windshield, I looked down at my phone and saw a message from my 11-year-old son.

‘Is Mom okay?’

I broke. They had no idea how bad it was. I knew I was about to shatter their hearts, all four of my sons. They would never be the same, nothing would ever be the same. Everything was changing.

The days and weeks that followed blur together in a sleepless, nightmarish haze. The outpouring of support for my family was unlike anything I had ever seen. So much love directed towards me and my boys, it was overwhelming. Yet there is a loneliness that comes from a loss like this. How many have walked down this road? How many can relate? Three months later, as the dust settled and life seemed to go on around me, the permanency of death was a sobering reality. She wasn’t coming back. So many reached out to me, so many cards, letters, text messages…I lost count.

But this one stopped me cold. It was a simple message of encouragement, from a person I had never met. It wasn’t the message itself that got my attention, it was the name attached to it. Erin Stoffel. That name had become known by almost everyone around this area in 2015. It was a name that brought a story so heavy, so dark, it was hard to believe she actually lived it…

Erin met her husband Jon when they were in high school, both of them deeply committed to their faith. They did the long distance thing while Jon went off to Bible College in California. A year younger than Jon, Erin would follow him there after she graduated. She was only 19 when they were married.

Young couple walk down the aisle together at their wedding reception — Courtesy of Erin Ullmer

Nearly 13 years later, they were a close-knit family of five. Erin and Jon’s faith permeated every aspect of their life, perhaps best reflected in their marriage. Jon was a 33-year-old carpenter, providing for his family with hard, honest work. Their eldest, Olivia was quiet and genuine, mature beyond her 11 years. She was a miniature version of her mother, following Erin around like a shadow.

Young couple take fall-themed photos with their three kids — Courtesy of Erin Ullmer

May 3, 2015, was one of those beautiful spring days that begs to be enjoyed outside, after the long, bleak winter. Jon, Erin and their three children went for a walk along the newly-constructed Trestle Trail Bridge, a 1600-foot pedestrian bridge located in Menasha, Wisconsin. As they approached the red pavilion at the midpoint of the bridge, there was a man standing next to another man who was slumped over on a bench. Jon approached the man, trying to assess the situation.

Death was upon them.

Without warning, the man pulled out a 9mm pistol and shot Jon point blank in the chest. He then turned the gun on Erin and 11-year-old Olivia, shooting each of them once. All three went to the ground. Erin’s 5-year-old daughter Selah stood frozen next to her.