Over the years, some of my clients have passed away.

Sometimes their families invited me to the funeral. They told people I was their barber. They made sure I knew that I mattered in that person’s life.

Sometimes they even sent me pictures. I remember seeing the American flag draped over the casket of a client who had served his country. I remember feeling honored that they thought of me and wanted me to be included.

I wasn’t related to them by blood.

But I was included.

That meant something to me.

My father’s funeral and burial were different.

No one sent pictures.

No one showed me the memory board or the room where people gathered to remember him.

I was his daughter.

And somehow I felt less included than I have felt at the funerals of people I only knew through my work.

That is a hard thing to understand.

Sometimes it is not the big moments that hurt the most.

Sometimes it is the small silences.

Sometimes it is the absence of something simple, like a photograph.

Being included tells you that you mattered.

Being left out tells you something too.

— Kellie