Crashing a funeral never felt so good
Tap-tap-tap. I rapped lightly on the driver’s window. The glass lowered, and the driver peered at me, a puzzled look on her face. I spoke directly to her passenger, the young widower who’d just exited the church following his wife’s funeral. They were preparing to go to the cemetery for the burial. Although I knew his four young children were seated behind him in the minivan, my focus remained fixed solely on him. “Hi Nolan*. I’m here on behalf of Robert,”…