Funerals you have to travel to ask something different of you—not because the loss is greater, but because getting there is never assumed, and presence itself becomes something that must be negotiated rather than expected. They are not the kind where you grab your keys and go, or where presence is automatic. They begin instead with a quiet reckoning: before grief is allowed to surface, you must first determine whether you are even able to be there.

There is no right answer to the question of where you “should” be this December. There is only the truth of what your family needs, and the quiet courage it takes to honor that.

True friendships in this life are not bound by geography. Distance may stretch the silver threads thin, yet in their endurance they take on a golden shine, deepening into strands that glow richer with time. Often, the people one least expects to remain are the very ones who anchor us — steady and sure — reminding us that home is not merely a place but the people who stay woven into the fabric of our hearts.