The Art of Intimate Sorrow

An essay for Sad Dads or people who love Sad Dads.

I went to the Greek Theater last Friday night to see Brittany Howard. It was the first time I’d been there since the spring of last year when I went to see The National for what I hoped would be a cathartic and closure-filled experience about my father’s death underneath a dark, cloudy EL AY sky. It worked—just not the way I expected it to.

Brittany Howa…