The funeral home was packed. Mom was social. She had a lot of friends. And her disappearance had been in the papers and on the radio. Once the news of her death broke, people showed up.

Some were genuine. Some were just curious. Nosy people — the kind who thrive on social media now — showed up just to be part of the story.

So many faces I didn’t recognize. So many people I hadn’t seen in years. I remember sitting on the couch in my parents’ house, surrounded by people bringing food, offering hugs. Some hugged me, most didn’t even know who I was. I was her son, and I felt invisible.

And then Dave — my father’s cousin — walked in.

He and his family had driven seven hours from Boston. He walked right past everyone, didn’t say a word to anyone, and hugged me.

That hug saved me.