So as I am wandering around this cemetary, looking for my great grandparents' graves I come across an old lady who comes into the cemetary and walks over to a particular tomb. She slowly lowers herself down on her hands and knees in the wet gravel in front of the tomb. She methodically and lovingly takes out the old flowers, tossing the old water, and replaces them with new ones. Then, she takes a rag that she has brought and washes down every square inch of the tomb with water so that the white marble really shines in the light. She stops, observes her work, fidgets with the flower arrangement to get it just right, and then takes a moment for herself. She collects her things, and leaves. Don't we all just want someone to love us that much?
I can't stop the tears streaming down my face.
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7 comments:
I love how you described it....beautiful.....you're getting a glimpse of things that most people don't and seeing it for what it really is. I hope you're living it up and loving it. sorry it took me so long to find my way here.
The best piece of prose you ever wrote. I am proud of you, Dad
St. John said,"...love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." You have seen a glimpse of the power of love. It remains.
Always,
Mom
Doesn't your father mean "it is the best piece of prose you have ever written"?
I'll wash your tombstone if you wash mine :) Instead of flowers, can you play me music??
i got chills reading this. thanks for sharing.
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