fresh

The days are flittering along. Hershey and Scout are keeping things interesting around the house. Scout can be quite timid except when food is concerned. She has taken to stealing kibbles out of Hershey's bowl as he takes longer to eat. I've become the food moderator.

This was my view from bed last night. My slippers left ready for the morning and Scout's two little paws sticking out from under the bed. She loves to sleep under the bed, but always leaves one body part out to let the world know where she is. 

I did it. I visited the grave. I remembered these trees from the burial and were pleased to see them in winter glory. 

This was significant to me. This is the grass growing over the grave. Fresh life, green and new, littered with dead leaves from Autumn's drop and wet with beds of moisture. I didn't want to visit the grave until there was grass growing over the straw and it was a relief to find it so. 

There are two additional lines of graves laid now. So much loss in the lives of others since mine just over five months ago. I used to count the Wednesdays. One week since Dad's death, one month, one and a half months. I wondered for many weeks if I would count forever until one week I simply forgot to count and lost track of time and the Wednesdays carried on. 

There was a beautiful fresh wreath with a bright red bow on Dad's grave with the tag on the back stating "Today I placed a wreath on the grave of an American hero." The organization responsible for this honoring and beautiful act is Wreaths Across America. Wow. I looked them up and their mission and work is really remarkable. 

What's the first sign of life that you look for when a baby is born? You listen for its cry, its wail. Then the cheers for life begin! How interesting it is that pain and suffering are so closely related to the rejoicing that life calls for.