After my dad passed away, Carl & I happened to be the first ones to stumble upon the temporary marker at the cemetery. We happened to be out and about and I wanted to stop by. The flowers were gone and in their place was a small black stone with a peaceful dove and my dad's name printed on it. It caught me off guard. Setting something in stone makes it a reality (not that it wasn't already.)
A couple of weeks ago, my mom came home and informed us my dad's official marker had been placed. And I didn't go. I didn't go that day or that week. Or even in the month of October for that matter.
I went today. It was a crisp 35 degrees with a brisk wind, but it was a beautiful day. I got a latte on the way since Dad always treated us to all kinds of coffee (Starbucks, Gloria Jean's, Intelligentsia, you name it.) I sat on the bench and drank my coffee and thought about my dad.
His bench perfectly represents the man he was and the way everyone remembers him. It's a strong, sharp looking bench. The lettering is traditional and the black granite is classic. There is willow tree to the left and it makes me think of sitting there, reading a good book on a warm, breezy day. And that's exactly what my dad would've wanted.