Name in Stone

I would like to believe I inherit my ability to see the beauty where least expected from my Grandfather. I love when flowers spring from the ugly concrete cracks on the sidewalks. The same goes for cemeteries for me.

I've been to my grandfather's grave several times since he passed away. The beauty that settles upon this fact is that I know he's not there. When visiting this weekend, I shed not one single tear...for the first time, mind you. But, something is very beautiful about his name in stone, there for the world to remember him by. I wonder who will see his name in 100 or more years and wonder who he was, what he did, where he was born, what his dreams were...

I've become somewhat of an advocate too over the last few months for well maintained cemeteries. Nothing is worse than an unkempt one...

Next time you find yourself in a cemetery (hey, you never know...they inspire me for some reason), pick up the debris and say a prayer for the family that misses that person.

And, when I see these names in stone today, I ask the same questions from earlier. More than a name, that person was once living...on earth. I wonder what their story would tell.