Yesterday was emotionally trying for me. We went to visit my grandmother in Chillicothe, MO, stopping on the way to her house at my grandfather's grave, still a large pile of dirt beneath his tombstone that does not yet to have his date of death carved into it. My grandma is going to sell the house that my grandpa built when my father was a child, and move into a duplex. I kept walking around the house, remembering all the many overnight visits and day trips we took to visit them, the movies we watched, the games we played and the stories they told of their adventures around the world. Knowing I'll never go there again makes my heart hurt.
May Deals with Death
Photo Essay: May's Minutia