I went to a funeral recently where I didn’t want to be. Nobody likes a funeral; nobody in their right mind. But in retrospect it was good for me. The funeral was for a man old enough to be my father. The deceased was the dad of one of my classmates, a man whom I had known intermittently since childhood. There was a surprising but important element that came out of the experience but it didn’t dawn on me until a day later. Read the full article →


