Ted nodded, "Please go ahead."
The sheriff pursed his lips, "Don't go in to see him. Taking his ashes back is the greatest respect you can show him."
Tears instantly welled up in Ted's eyes as he stared wide-eyed at the sheriff, "Thank you for the reminder, but that is my son."
"I will take him back, not just a handful of ashes!"
He said these words through clenched teeth, though his religious beliefs wouldn't mind him taking just ashes back, he didn't want to do so.
The sheriff looked at Ted and finally sighed, "Prepare yourself mentally before going in; I won't be going in."
He patted Ted's arm as a form of comfort, a form of encouragement.
Ted took out a handkerchief to wipe his eyes; though "being a tough guy who cries" might make him seem weak, those around him did not think so.
They all knew how much Ted loved his son and understood the despair and pain after such emotions were shattered.
