As I tiptoed into the office, an associate greeted me. I sat down and leaned in with a whisper: “I do not know where my father is buried”. She was very kind and responded that it is a very common occurrence. A map was presented which soon followed an escorted ride to the exact spot where my father was last seen in his body. There is no tombstone as of yet because my mother has yet to address it. On top of the place where the casket that held him descended into the earth is where my body planted itself for some time today. The sound of wind chimes were very pleasant. Other people were in other locations in the graveyard delivering flowers to their loved ones. My father would probably prefer a copy of Sports Illustrated or The Miami Herald.
There I sat simply having a conversation with him. His contributions to my life make me wonder if I am being effective with my life purpose. Am I making a difference? What is my legacy? The wind began to push me about as my feet carried me to my car. As I drove away, mental notes were taken regarding the spot of my father’s grave in the hopes that I could return with ease. It was time for me to return to Broward County so that I could further my knowledge about ancestors; there was a class on the subject. Because I have such a direct connection now, it is a topic of great interest to me.