Visiting a special someone

My grandmother, my dad’s mom, died when I was 3. Today I visited her grave. It was an odd feeling, walking among the many graves. I sat by her grave and put a flower. My brother poured water to clear the dust. I watched the grave stones and felt tears behind my sun glasses. It was sunny out but not too hot. It was early morning. It was a peaceful place to be in. No sound, no worry, no problems. A place where the soul is above and life is no longer down on earth.

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