In the end the funeral turns out to be the easy part. The hard part comes after.
But that’s the thing isn’t it? The hard part always comes after.
All the rituals, all moments you think of as important, that you build up to—graduations and weddings and baby showers and funerals—they’re just the signage, the landmarks that denote the beginning of the next leg, the start of something new. It’s the hundreds of days that come after, the ordinary, everyday mess of traveling that new path that’s difficult.
Not burying your father, but learning to carry his memory without breaking under the weight.