FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW

It was 28 years ago today. I stood in the same place, about the same time of the day. The only difference was the day was sunny, while today it rained, an icy rain. As I stood there, I could picture the black end doors of the Hurst, as it led me to his final resting place. The cold and the icy, snowy ground froze my mind, as I realized that a child laid in that Hurst, my child.

It seemed that everything at the graveside was a blur, and in slow motion. Like a movie, wishing to prevent the finality of it all. The desperate cry for help that could never come in time. The open grave, a receptacle for someone I love, gaped, laughing in my face, mocking me. I could not feel, cry or think. I looked for my wife, his mother for comfort, but it was too hard while trying to comfort her.

Today, as I looked around the cemetery grounds, the place was empty, void of human living life! I guess the weather made it too uncomfortable to visit. I can’t say I blame anyone. I wondered what I was doing there. It seemed so late for anything! I wondered if my son knew I was standing over his grave. I sometimes wonder if visiting a gravesite is any good. But today it was, it gave me comfort to be there with him, in a small way.

A continuous cover of slush, icy snow, and sleet peppered the grounds into a smooth even sheen, unbroken everywhere I looked. The glass like surface was perfect and unbroken. As I looked toward the roadside, I noticed the broken surface that led to my feet, the same steps I took that sad day. It was 28 years ago today. I stood in the same place, about the same time of the day.

I feel good! I feel I did something for one of my children. Whenever I do something for one of my children, I feel good. What did I do that was so wonderful? I remembered him. Better yet, I put myself out for him.

Please remember DD, and all those that need our prayers.