My friend cried on the phone with me as he rehearsed his remarks that he was going to deliver at his father’s funeral later that week. His heart was broken and his words stumbled and eeked out from behind a growing lump in his throat. His pain was so palpable, I wanted to reach through the phone to wipe away the tears welling up in his eyes.
“How am I going to do this,” he asked. “I don’t want to turn into a blubbering mess up there, Andrea. But, I owe at least this much to my father.”
“Don’t go up there alone,” I replied...