Always go to the funeral.
As I searched in Google for a recent piece I liked that said as much, I found multiple articles to that effect.
This bit of wisdom aligns with the corporal work of mercy of burying the dead. Being at the funeral, regardless of whether you have perfect words of consolation (which you probably won’t), is simply the right thing to do. Sometimes, presence is the best gift you can offer.
Took most of the day off today so I could head to Libertyville for a funeral, with hopes for a detour to Marytown on the way home. It would have been my second funeral this year. But my paralyzing, perhaps irrational fear of ice-slicked roads on this blustery Midwestern winter day got the best of me. I already regret this.
I am grateful for my friend’s pre-emptive dispensation yesterday to pivot to the Zoom feed of the services for her dad. She is one of my dearest friends and one of the most gracious people I know, and I really wanted to be there for her.
Instead, I’m in my home office, viewing services 20 miles away and offering prayers for God’s mercy. For once, the Internet does not suck, and even with my regrets, I can only give thanks.