Bethanny opened up the discussion to talk about how grief impacted people on the molecular level. We talked about how that grief infected our day-to-day lives and made us less efficient people than we wanted to be. I was an efficient person. It’s all I had ever wanted to be. The people around me talked about anger over parking spaces, anger over women who had not accepted their love, anger about partners who ignored them over text. These were ways their grief made them act out. We were here trying to transcend pain, which would in turn help everyone articulate the bigger stuff so we could teach ourselves—and eventually our clients—to move on. But some of us (me) could not articulate it, and could not move on.

I wondered how Bobby would answer the questions posed to us. Not that I’d ever want him to join. This was my place to evolve into being a better person. Not his. These grievers were my people, even if I did not fully appreciate them yet. Already there was a certain satisfaction knowing that someone like Debbie, with her short, indistinct bob of mousy brown hair and a penchant for wearing faded floral prints, would be in the front row, to the right, ready to raise a hand when Bethanny asked for someone to share on the topic of “How can we give comfort to the families of the dying?” Immediately I could tell she wanted to be the most engaged person in the training. The most adept at reaching the kind of understanding that would allow her effortlessly to help a person pass into the next realm. It seemed as though Debbie just couldn’t help being type A, even about this.

Debbie thought giving comfort was incredibly important, though she had not been given enough during her own family situation. Bethanny’s question led Debbie on a journey into how she had just joined a dating app after her grandmother’s passing because she was worried that she was never going to have an emergency contact.

“As I scrolled through my phone, I realized there wasn’t a single person in there I would put as a beneficiary for my 401(k),” she said. “Do you know how scary that is?”

I stared at her as she looked around the room waiting for an acknowledgment that we all understood the feeling.

“I kept scrolling and realized I wasn’t even sure who to call in case of an emergency. Like, what if I fell and cracked my head open and had to go to the hospital—who would I tell? What if I didn’t make it? I didn’t even fill in anyone for my life-insurance policy. I have money to give no one. It ends with me. That’s it.”