As a pall bearer for Capt. Jerry Norris I made another visit to St. Michael’s Cemetery this past Thursday. Seems that these Cemetery visits are occurring more and more frequently of late. I guess that as long as I am the one doing the visiting versus the one being visited things are ok for now.
My time spent in the cemetery whether for a funeral or just saying hello to folks I miss alot, always leaves me in a funky state of mind. I wouldn’t call it depressed nor sad exactly, but let’s just say it leaves me kind of blue.
Of course I always swing by Brother Steve’s and Buzzy’s resting spots to check in with them. I re-read their tombstone inscriptions that I already know by heart but look them over just the same to make sure nothing’s changed. I see things like the grass growing over Buzzy’s footstone and make a note to bring a spade by sometime and clean it up. I check the areas immediately in front of their graves to see if they are still vacant and remind myself to call the Catholic Cemetery folks about purchasing them for my resting spot. As I said, these cemetery visits make me think thoughts that I don’t ordinarily think about anywhere else I visit.
Below is Bruce’s song about his relationship with his father. It conjures up these two photo’s:
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| Buzzy and Me – 1952 |
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| Grandson Shawn and His Dad Shea – 2016 |
While the song’s first verse about following in his father’s footsteps always makes me smile, the third verse (2:06 mark) with its line “Well I was a young man and didn’t know what to do when I saw your best steps stolen away from you” always makes me cry. Damn those cemetery visits.