Another funeral tomorrow.
I talked at some length with one of the adult sons of the deceased this morning. As the conversation wound down, he grew quiet and tearful. Clearly missing his father, he summed up what he had been saying with this sentence:
“It was fun to grow up where he was.” He meant that literally; there was great joy for him in being in his father’s presence.
Dads—is it fun for our kids to grow up where we are?