Every day
There was a stunned silence as the hundreds of people filed from the church. We had attended the funeral of a nineteen year old; fit, active, with his whole life ahead of him, he had died in his sleep from no apparent cause. What was there one might say? Nothing.
Had it been my son, I could not have shown the dignity of the bereaved parents.
A colleague, charged with the task of saying something, spoke of how the young man’s life had been filled with so much that was …