"I was 20 years old, and desperately trying to escape the crowds at my father’s memorial service. Initially, I felt touched by the mob of people who showed up to remember him at an event devoid of 'God stuff' and ending in a party, exactly like he wanted. But that feeling soured over the course of the day as people accosted me, sobbed on my shoulder, and worst of all, asked after my mother."

Read more at The Establishment.