The funeral was done in a somber mood and in earnest. It was not something one would think a funeral would be like, where everyone is weeping and everyone was comforting each other.
It was one that was done in solitude, something I chose myself.
There was no space here for pretending and for false remorse at all. This was not a place for my family's superficial sympathy, their pretended tears that only existed to mask their real feelings, and their flushed faces like a heavy burden.
I gave everyone—a person at a time—an unmistakable and stern instruction to keep their distance from my son's last significant ceremony. My mother, my father, Elizabeth, and Damian were among the people that I forbid to show up, and they knew it wasn't a mere statement but a threat— that if they ever dare t
