I was in town. Visiting family. My brother had passed away about five years before and I wanted to visit his grave while I was in town. You know, I didn't want his grave to be the only one not taken care of. I didn't want people to think he was unloved and forgotten and how it was so sad. Bert lives in many memories and I would bet in yours too. I didn't want to go alone so I took my two sons. They were about eight and ten. I didn't want them to grow up and be afraid of grave yards. We parked and walked a stright line to Bert's resting place. The boys and I talked about Bert and they ask a few questions about death. After a while of talking and cleaning his spot I looked up saw a man standing over a grave with his eyes down. I could not believe my eyes but it was your Dad. I had been so mindfull walking to Bert's grave I had not been aware of any new arrivals since my last visit a few years back. He looked truely sad. Thoughts raced though my mind about how he was the only man in all the world that I had wanted to be my father in law. He was always funny, loving toward his family, and a good husband. You know, the kind of man I wanted to be. I wondered should I walk over and say hello but I didn't want to interupt him and his thoughts. Then I looked down at my two sons and knew in my heart that after 20 years I still wanted those two boys to be his grandsons. I thought how strange it was that time and space had brought us together in that place, both in pain for someone they still loved but would never hold or hear again. The boys and I did a little more cleaning and I looked up and he was gone. I have never seen him again. As we walked back to our car we passed where he had stood and I saw that it was your mother and a place for him. Just like your Dad. Then I thought about how you had been there in pain and I was not there to help ease what I know was a very deep hurt. And again I knew that there is something inside me that I can't explain to anyone that will simply not go away. No matter what I try, it just won't go away. In fact, as I write this I am in the middle of what I call a BC attack. They come every so often and I don't know what kicks them off. I blamed myself all these years and with help I have come to understand more about it. I think now it was because you did not have faith in me and was afraid to take a chance on our love. The thing I can't seem ever to understand is why do I have to keep paying for you walking away.
James R. Howington
Apr 30, 2009 In our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.
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