I will only tell you that I could not have remained standing at all if it were not for Adrian’s parents, who stood on either side of me and held me up between them the entire time.

His mother cried so hard she could barely draw breath, and still she held onto my arm as if I were the one who needed saving, which I was.

His father kept one broad hand flat against my shoulder for the whole service, steady, unmoving, as though he had privately decided that he would not let me fall into that grave after them no matter what it cost him.

They had lost their son and both of their grandchildren that week.