At My Father’s Funeral, My Brother Announced He Was Selling the House

of time. “Just give me until after this week. I’ll have it.”

He saw me and hung up immediately. “Work stuff,” he said.

He hadn’t worked in eight months.

The night before the funeral, I couldn’t sleep, so I went down to Dad’s office in the basement and started sorting through his files. It was the kind of work I do well, methodical and quiet, and it kept continue reading …