CHAPTER 8

My dad was a man of prestige and great personality. His funeral doesn’t do justice to that fact; people don’t show up like they are supposed. Although we’re not expecting too many people: a few people from the bar, the man's dad had been working for, and his family and some of Carla’s coworkers are the only visitors at the wake. It’s strange to be at my own dad’s funeral meeting most of the other mourners for the first time. I feel like an outsider and I wonder if it’s my own fault. I wanted my independence and pushed him away, and it feels like I’m paying the price now.

Most of the guys he worked with in Savannah, his friends that I know, can’t make it on such short notice. They send flowers and make donations in dad’s name to his favourite charities and their long-distance love helps me feel a little less disconnected.