"We’d have to import marble...."

I visited the cemetery yesterday. My parents are there. Assorted aunts and uncles are there. It’s a lovely spot. It’s well tended. They rest on a little knoll, and there’s a nice breeze and plenty of shade. I didn’t bring flowers this time. Just myself. I like to think I’m better company than some lilting roses from Price Chopper anyway. I don’t stay long. I’m not a spiritual person, nor am I a religious one. But I still find comfort tapping on the stone, and giving them a quick rundown on their grandchildren. Oh how proud they’d be. It’s a one way conversation, but I still enjoy it. I then take a picture and send it along to all my siblings in a group chat. It’s become a bit of a tradition. I always tear up, but stop myself. I don’t know why.