We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Where we planted my dear brother-in-law's ashes on Saturday afternoon, in the family churchyard next to my parents. Typical of the Bird Dog family, his widow's first words: "Let's make this quick, everybody, cuz I'm paying the gravedigger by the hour." We all got an F in Solemnity class.
Damn, I miss that good guy, and will miss him terribly in Cape Cod this summer. Navy vet, outdoor-lover, running buddy, fishing buddy, beer-drinking buddy, body-surfing buddy, hiking buddy, farm work buddy. Always up for anything energetic or challenging. Wry, dry humor.
It sucks, as my sister says. Yep. Happy trails, Uncle Bob, and maybe catch ya later in the great unknown.
We don’t bury our loved ones in the ground. Though the body may be interred, the spirit is buried in our hearts. The flesh and bones may decay but the spirt shall live as long as we hold it in ourselves.
As the grass grows over the grave, the scars grow over our hearts. The pain may fade but the memory of the wound remains with us forever.