My son’s best friend walked into his funeral wearing a bright red dress, and for one terrible moment, I thought he was mocking my dead child. Everyone turned to stare. Some guests whispered, while others looked away in embarrassment. I knew Wes had loved Miles like a brother, but I couldn’t understand why he would choose such an outfit for the saddest day of our lives.
My husband, Russell, stood up, ready to confront him, but I grabbed his sleeve. Wes continued toward the podium, his hands trembling. He looked at the coffin, then at the crowd. “I know how this looks,” he whispered. “But Miles made me promise something, and I couldn’t break that promise today.” Click continue reading below.
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