Next time you invite me to a life cycle event of any kind, you might as well address the invitation to Emma and her Grief. Grief will tag along regardless although she rarely RSVPs. She will sneak in, tucked under my arm or maybe in my pocket. She will wait until the happiest moment and then punch me in the stomach. She’s my ball and chain at these things. Never fails to remind me. Never gives me respite. Will there ever be a party she does not crash?