Today I help carry to his grave a small and angry man. He abused his children when they were young, manipulated and demeaned them as adults. He was the pope of his own exacting and graceless religion, not having darkened the door of an actual church in a half-century. He would arrive in heaven believing it was his due, with a thing or two to say to God about the management of the universe.

May his ancestors work him over. May his children find peace.

As Rachel said, all the choices of his life led to the loneliness of his death. Live so as to be missed.