35 London“Funerals suck. All of them blow. But this one sucks the most.” —London Wright Today’s the day—the last day of February—a day I’ve been dreading for so many reasons. I stroll arm in arm with Paige up the cement walkway toward the church. The salt crystals that were tossed onto the sidewalk are still intact as they crunch under my heels. The frigid temperature is too frigid for even the salt to melt the ice. My fingers, though nestled in black leather gloves, are frozen. I can no longer feel the skin on my face as it’s assaulted by the bitter air on this record-breaking cold day. Today is truly miserable. Even the earth is mourning the loss of Cooper. Once inside the church, Paige and I find a seat in a wooden pew. There’s a casket covered with an American flag at the front o

