I Was the Only One at My Grandpa’s Funeral Until a General Saw His Ring and Asked Me One Question

put it back on my finger and stood there in the quiet of that ordinary cemetery, bordered by old trees and the distant sound of traffic, and felt the weight of it. Not heavy. Just present. The way he had always been present, the way I had always been the one who noticed.

I leaned in. I always had. I always will.