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Friday, August 17, 2007

Butler, Pennsylvania

Stood at gravesites of mother and father. There are no flowers. Just grass. They are alone. Nearby, our obelisk. There is room for me and my family. The question arises: Here? Or there?

3 comments:

Pia said...

That's a sobering thought,Charles, but probably the most REAL thing we have to deal with in life...
In reading your previous post, where you wrote "I thought about the quiet peace of my Black Forest village where... I feel myself so much closer to those things in life that really matter,"

I'd say that sounds like a good place. :-)

JustMe said...

Well, let me say this. Everyone but one uncle is buried in the family plot, here. He is buried with his wife in her family's plot quite a drive away.

I recall him even in his missingness, of course, but I miss him; but far more importantly, his children and grandchildren are here..what must it be like for them to come to the family plot and know his remains are not here?

Pia said...

You're right, Justme, and it's important for those who remain to be able to visit, more than for the one who's gone ahead into new life.