I grew up in a small town in Eastern Kentucky. Since my father’s passing almost two years ago I return here on a regular basis (every two to three weeks is the current cadence) to help my mom.

I am back again this weekend with the unenviable task of taking her to put flowers on my father’s grave. This is just something my family has done for generations, placing flowers on family graves on Memorial Day and Christmas. Knowing this weekend is already destined to be emotional, I wasn’t prepared for where a trip to the post office would take me. Mom needed some Christmas packages mailed out and asked me to take them to the post office for her. The lady at the counter looked at the return address and asked if I was Von’s son. I replied “Yes, I am.” After a bit of chit-chat back and forth about mom and how’s she doing she then said “Your dad was a good man, I miss seeing him.” I muttered back “He was the best.” and had to fight back the welling of tears in my eyes.

---

Filed under: Personal - @ December 3, 2022 6:44 am