Good morning Caleb,
Today’s letter is one of a different nature. I decided that I was going to come out to the cemetery and write this. It is really rather peaceful out here. The wind is blowing on the back of my neck and the birds are all singing. We had a bit of rain this morning, but it has gave way to a cool sunny morning. I simply love the way it feels out here.
Before I sat down to write this I stopped by your graveside to tidy things up a bit. There was some grass on your stone and some of the displays were knocked over. It looks much better now. It seems as if I am not the only one who has been out here recently because there is a piece of candy lying in the grass where you are buried. This has to be the act of either your grandma or grandpa, they always make sure that you are good and stocked up with candy. Needless to say, If I am ever in the area and I want a piece, I know where to get it from.
I also went to make sure that the other three plots we have beside you are still reserved, they are. One day when your mother and I come across some extra money, I am gonna go in there and pay for those plots so that we can be certain about being buried beside you when we make our transition.
I was reading a story yesterday about hospice and palliative care. One specific part of the story that I remember the most was in the beginning of the article. It spoke of an elderly man who was sitting up in his bed shooting the breeze with several political colleagues one evening. Early the next morning he had passed away. This reminded me of you. I remembered the last time I saw you alive was when I brought you over to the house to change your dirty diaper. The next time I saw you, you were gone. It amazes me how fragile life is, one minute we are here. The next minute we are gone. Wow! All that is left now is an emotional scar, memories, a plot of dirt and a rock. I miss you bubby.
I Love you like a fat kid loves cake,