My parents skipped the funeral of my husband and two children because it was my sister’s birthday. When I begged them to come, my father calmly said,

around the words. “Lily and Noah too.”

Silence.

Then my mother took the phone. “What do you mean, gone?”

“They died this morning,” I said. “The funeral is Friday. Please… I need you.”

My father took the phone back.

“Friday?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He let out a slow breath. “Claire, Friday is your sister’s birthday dinner. The reservation has been booked for weeks.continue reading …