“imagine? The not knowing?” I moaned. My lower lip quivered uncontrollably. “Hey! A little respect here,” Dad whispered harshly to the ladies behind us. He stood, shuffling past Mom and me, bumping our knees, and then sat, bookending me between himself and Mom. He pulled me into his side, becoming my shelter against the whispered gossip and curious stares. The organ blared as the funeral ceremony commenced. Everyone surged to their feet. I rose slowly, my entire body feeling achy and aged, and gripped the pew in front of me to keep from collapsing back into my seat. All heads turned to the rear of the church, where the pallbearers”
―
Kerry Lonsdale,
Everything We Keep