The Sunday Morning Muse, January 25, 2009

No cake today.

My father, who would have been 82 on this day, has been gone over 10 years now. I wanted to honor him in some way this week, so I went to visit his grave. It's in one of those cemetaries that don't allow tombstones. There's these flat grave markers that make it easy for the caretaker to cut the grass. But now the snow is eight inches deep and there wasn't a grave to be seen. It was an empty field with an odd Christmas wreath on a tripod here and there.

I couldn't find dad. That was an odd feeling. I didn't like it.

Shortly before his death, I told dad I didn't like that cemetary. That I wouldn't be buried there. You see, I have my heart set on Oak Park. It has gnarled and twisted trees, a cliff, a hundred year old mausoleum with huge iron doors and rusted locks. A ghostly looking gate--- designed to keep people out.... or keep the dead in. And, best of all real monuments that are planted firmly in the ground to be seen all year round.

So, Dad, even though I couldn't visit you this week, I just want you to know I'm thinking of you.

I wish you were here to help shovel snow.

And to share some cake.