My Father Has Died

And I can't decide if I want to stand in that church and talk about it

I sat down to write a eulogy for my father today just to see if I could. I thought about the church I grew up in and left, about the people I’ll have to see when I walk the long aisle to mourn my dad. I did not ever intend to step through those doors again. I did not ever want to sit in hard pews with my back pressed flat against a religion that clangs empty and hollow against my spine.

And yet, I will.