My parents texted me during my husband’s funeral.
“Can you pick up pizza on your way home? And please leave your family drama at the door today. Friends are coming over.”
I was standing there at the graveside holding my kids while they cried and my phone kept buzzing.
My sister added in the group chat:
“Yeah, don’t forget extra cheese this time.”
I didn’t answer any of them.
After the funeral, I drove home with my children still in tears. When I walked in without pizza, my mother slapped me hard across the face and said:
“Seriously? One simple task and you couldn’t even do that?”
