Sunday I traveled with the Nieman family down to EC to visit the
cemetery. It was a beautiful day with a beautiful family, but
regardless it was soooooo painful.
I glanced around the
cemetery as three if the children were running around with butterfly
nets,while the baby was climbing over the headstone. The adults were
washing and cleaning up the headstone. I stop and look around and in my
mind I scream, How did I get here? How can life be so fragile and
short? How can I live without him. How does this trip to visit Papa 's
grave become a family event? Everyone poses for pictures around the
grave. How and why?
When I hear little one-year-old Bella Button
jabber and say the name Papa as she looks at something no one else can
see, and I realize it IS all real and all because we love and miss this
beautiful and wonderful man.
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