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I Don't Really Give A Shit What You Think

[b]Do you remember where you came from?[/b]

Today was a beautiful spring day. The best of the year to date in my estimation. Working outside it was easy to enjoy the sun and light breeze and forget the shit in the world. The snow is almost completely gone and rain that is coming this weekend will finish most of it off. It is important not to be lulled though as it is still early April and I remember school being canceled on May 7 when I was a kid. Lulled into a false sense of security or not, today was beautiful.

As I drive home from work, in order to get home, I drive through the cemetery where most of my family and many friends are buried. None of them are there, it is just a place to remember and respect them. It is actually not a morbid thing and is a bit comforting to have the remembrance of so many people just up the hill from home. They are honestly better neighbors than most.

Once I got home, I changed out of my work clothes and the dogs and I walked up to the cemetery. I spent a bit of time cleaning debris from around my Grandparent's stones and my Great Uncle and Aunt and finally worked my way to my mom and dad's stone. Dad isn't there yet, but mom is and as I brushed off some pine needles and dry leaves from the front of the stone and adjusted the small angel statue that my wife had placed there, I reflected on the people who have played such an important role in my life.

I am not a young man by any means and living below the cemetery I often joke that my next move is up the hill and in the hole (even though I won't actually be there, nor will there be a stone). As I sat in front of my mother's name and the date of her birth and the date of her death carved in that stone, one of the dogs, Karlie, came and laid down in front of the stone. She seemed to also be looking at my mother's name.

A day like this would have been one of my mom's favorites. Anticipation of the may flowers starting to poke up through the leaves in the woods, thoughts about starting seeds for some tomatoes in the south window of the house and thinking about where she could take her lawn chair and watercolors and go paint once sleeping nature started to wake up again. I could almost feel her there, even though I know she is somewhere better than here (and here is pretty damn good).

It really was a beautiful spring day. Full of hope and thoughts of the coming summer.
Captainjackass · 31-35, M
Honestly I was probably made in some weird fucked up laboratory by some nutjob. I think I’d prefer to be cremated too rather than be buried near scumbag relatives.
goliathtree · 56-60, M
@Captainjackass Like I said, I have never, even as a kid felt my family was there. Just stones and a place to reflect. I won't be buried there. My ashes will be spread out and there won't be a stone.
Coppercoil · M
Was a beautiful day here too.. but not nearly as nostalgic and introspective. Glad you got some alone time to take it all in.
goliathtree · 56-60, M
@Coppercoil I am a sap when it comes to family and history. The sad part, and I am sure I said it before, is all the folks markers that go untended or unvisited. One spring I had to tell my wife to stop as she moved on to stones that hadn't seen a brush in many years..."where do you stop?" I asked, we could spend weeks.

Putting the greenhouse back up this year for flowers because I doubt I will be able to buy them in time for decoration day.

 
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