My father's funeral was on a cold, blustery January day. We were gathering at graveside for the final services. Chairs had been set out under a tent to seat family and other mourners. Mom was shivering despite her thick, full-length coat. She held my arm as I ushered her toward a seat. Then, in my most reassuring voice, I said, "Don't worry, Mom, I'll sit beside you and break wind."