Tuesday, May 16, 2017


I went to the cemetery to visit my Mom's grave on her birthday last week.

When I enter the grounds, something happens to me, I lose sight of my surroundings and feel the loss of so many people I knew and loved who now rest under those granite stones.

Entering the main gate, the names of all those who rest here come to mind: my son, my parents, my wife's parents and two nephews and two brothers-in-law's.

But it takes me back to when I used to go with my mother to visit her mother's grave. I recall thinking how my mother could possibly stand over the stone that marked Mary's final resting place, the name and year all there for Mom and me to see? She died in October, and Mom used to say how she saw a crow on that dark day, how appropriate it seemed to me.

Mom loved her mother, and grandma was a woman who had a lot of guts, raising 3 little girls without a husband, because he left her early in their marriage. I won't condemn my grandfather or grandmother, I wasn't around and don't know what happened between them, just that it did happen.

I hope there is an after-life, one where Mom and grandma will come together again, that Dad and Mom will enjoy what they had in their early years of life. My dream is to see all that have past once again, that I can see my wife when I am called, that she will join me after many more years on Earth.

Maybe we can have a card game with Dad and my brothers-in-law one more time, maybe I could pull a straight.

I can still hear all the voices, the way they talked and walked, the way they laughed, taking up arguments about politics and baseball or football, to relive those days once more, maybe even have another meal together. But most of all, to see Mom one more time, her laugh and her remembrances.



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