grave matters

written much earlier | just cleaning out the drafts drawer

Sitting in Zeeland for Ella's swim meet. I have passed by my dad's grave so many times driving to Chicago. I'll take a silent moment and I try to bring his long faded image into focus in my mind. I used to sob when I drove past, the hardest part for me was my father being buried -- in the ground. In a way that has always been too much for me to think about. I guess I'd rather think that when his spirit left this earth, his body no longer existed somewhere. That just feels wrong to me.