We Don’t Talk About The Beautiful Beast Called Grief

The death of a parent, the love, and the loss

Dad’s funeral was beautiful in the way any tragedy is. Bright blue skies with the hazy silhouette of the mountains in the distance. The military chaplain, who spoke passionately about a man he’d never had the chance to meet. The rhythmic folding of the flag, tucked neatly and placed in my sister’s…