Don often asks Grandma, “So, are you lonely living by yourself?” and “Do you wish Grandpa was still here?”

Her answers vary. “Ohhh, no. I’m used to living by myself now” and "Ohhhhh, yes.”

“It sure would be nice if Grandpa wouldn’t have died. Then we’d be seeing him every weekend too!”

“Ohhh yes, that’s right. But people have to die sometime. That’s just the way it is,” Grandma tells him.

“I miss him,” Don says in a resigned voice.

Now that Grandpa’s gone I am doubly glad that I named my firstborn child after him. It was my intention to honour my mother’s father, but I also knew that one day it would be a reminder as well as a connection, and indeed it is.

Driving to my home town to see Grandma yesterday, I thought “Grandpa, if you *are* somewhere, couldn’t you please contact me? It would be such comfort to know that you still exist somewhere besides our memories.”

It’s not as if I don’t believe he really was talking to me when I had a session with a medium a couple years ago, but I’d rather see or hear him with my own eyes. Then I’d *know* it. Or would I? I’d probably still doubt my own senses.

The graveyard in the photo is the one at the edge of my home town. I have always wanted to plant some flowers in front of the tombstones of my ancestors who are buried there, but have not been around to do so. This year there should be nothing stopping me. I've bought wildflower seeds...something tough that will thrive on being mowed down after it dies back in the fall.

If I am buried, this graveyard will probably be where.

There are a whole bunch on my mother's side, really old tombstones of people who died before I was born, on the upper right under the spruce trees. It's right at the back, a bit dark and maybe wildflowers won't do well there, and the ancient dappled greys of the monuments are difficult to read.

I'll have to get Grandma to come for a walk there when it warms up in the spring. See what she remembers of any of those people.

The graves of my dad's parents are toward the middle right. Grandpa B's new tombstone is there, too, way over to the left. It says "A Life's Work Well Done."