I sat quietly back, sipping on the lemonade the pastor had brought to the house, along with sacks full of Chick-Fil-A, and watched as the parade of people stopped by my sister’s house. We were only 36 hours into this shock wave, and there was already a long list of things to do; decisions that had to be made sooner rather than later. Hours earlier, we sat with the Director of the memorial gardens where my young nephew would be laid to rest, picking out all the various elements one had to do before the burial. This was not our first experience. We’d unfortunately entered the world of family loss…