Yesterday was Father’s day.
Yesterday my cousins buried their father. It was very sad and a momentus occasion, if you will. There weren’t a whole lot of peoghbbple there, but the ceremony was very nice and special. My uncle received a 21 gun salute, which is the highest honor anyone can receive and is usually reserved for very special people like the president and those who have served our country.
My uncle was young still. I believe, 61. He died a horrible death, but he probably did not feel the pain.
But his children did.
I did.
It was very sad to watch my family bury a beloved family member. 3 children shed tears for their father. Parents buried one of their children. Brothers and sisters said goodbye to one of their best friends.
I can’t imagine what that must feel like and I don’t want to.
The saddest part for me was knowing that my father was really sad, but burying the pain. And my grandparents were all out of tears, but still tore up inside their frail little bodies. They are too old to deal with such a tremendous pain; the pain of burying your own child.
I hope I never have that experience.
But I know I will be attending more of these in the future. And that future gets closer and closer everyday and terrifies me.
