Half of love is logistics, and the hardest part is getting yourself into the room.

You will not remember what anyone said at the burial. You will remember exactly who came, who sat with you, and who sent a message instead. Presence outlives eloquence, every single time.

We know this instinctively: the aso ebi, the long drive to the village, the hospital corridor at an unreasonable hour. It is inconvenient by design. The inconvenience is the message.

You cannot attend everything, and pretending otherwise helps nobody. Choose deliberately instead of by default, and go in person when in person is what it actually costs. That is the version people remember.