Not long after we started dating, I accompanied my teenage boyfriend to his grandfather’s funeral. I had never met nor heard anything about the deceased; my first impression came from the pastor’s opening lines:
“It’s important to be nice, but it’s more important to be important.”
Surprised at the mutilation of the common quote, I turned quizzically to my boyfriend.
“He messed up,” he confirmed in a whisper, “But it’s accurate in this case.”
I spent the remainder of the service wondering about the life and priorities of a man who left his family with that impression.