The one event that stuck out to me today would probably be looked at as strange to others. The reason it stood out to me was because I had never been asked before.
"Where are they buried?" he asked.
Many people in my life refuse to talk about those who've moved on, or if by chance they are talked about its in a sullen manner.
I talk about my late family members as if they're away for the weekend. If I don't then the story being told just doesn't taste right coming from my mouth. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when he asked me this rather casually. He spoke as if they were away as well.
I went through the brief history and stories of where they were, how they got there, and who their laying next to.
He took it all with grace.
He even struck up a conversation about how he had no clue where he would be laid to rest.
I told him about my family's plots and how my grandparents had bought enough for their parents, them selves, their three children, and their children's significant others. They even bought a few extra; I assume they're for a grandchild called before they've chosen another half.
"I wouldn't mind being laid there," I told him, "if my time came too soon."
He nodded and began talking about college as I thought that hopefully I would go after a long fulfilling life. And I pray I'm laid next to him.
YOU ARE READING
Life.
RandomI just write short things about my life, details about an event, or just my feelings towards something. it helps me cope.
