At My Daughter’s Funeral, My Son-in-Law Gave Me 24 Hours to Leave — Seven Days Later, His Phone Rang

faces arranged in professional sympathy. Neighbors who had brought casseroles I would never eat stood in clusters, whispering about fate and tragedy as if loss were something tidy and explainable, something that could be packaged in Tupperware and delivered with a sympathetic card. Distant relatives I hadn’t seen in years murmured about how young she’d continue reading …