My father was a lawyer and later a judge. He died a year ago, and I’ll be honest: by the time he died I was a little fed up. He refused to stop driving. He was starting to descend into dementia, yelling at my mother, yelling at me for trying to stop him from driving - he was forgetting everything, except that he was the patriarch of the family. I had to struggle to remember the father and the amazing man he had been.

And then, after some time in the hospital, he died.

And the memorial service was standing room only. Senator Cory Booker sent a letter, recounting what an inspiration my father had been to him, when Booker had been a teenager.

But that was not the crowning moment. That came at the end of the service. A Black woman and her two grown children stepped up to the microphone. I asked my sisters and mother if they knew them. Both shook their heads.

“You all don’t know me, but I knew your father many years ago,” she started. “When I wanted to adopt my oldest boy. I had very little money, and I was told by friends if you needed a lawyer, a good one, and you didn’t have much, Arthur Lesemann was the one to see. So I did that. I went to your father.”

“And he helped me. He helped me, a single Black woman, adopt my boy, and at the end of it, I held my breath, and I asked for the bill, and you know, he wouldn’t give me one?” She shook her head. “He said, this is the good stuff. This is what makes it worthwhile - the adoptions. The bringing together of people.”

Sitting there, next to my adopted nephew Griffin and his mother, my sister Dana, my tears started to flow. But she wasn’t done.

“A few years later, I knew he need a sibling. We needed a little more help. So back I went to Mr. Lesemann. And do you know he did it again. Another child. And again, I tried to pay. He would not take a cent. As my children grew, I told them about your father, about how we became a family. And how lawyers can do great things for people.”

“This is my daughter. She started law school last year.”

“This is my son. He is in college now.”

People started to clap - at a funeral. They couldn’t help it.

“I know you shared your father with a lot of people. I want to thank you. He did a lot of great things you probably never knew about. Thank you.” And she walked off, and the young man and young woman followed.

I got my dad back, his amazing accomplishments back at the front of my memory. Thanks for that.