Whenever we visit my Dad’s grave, I take a little walk to see if I can find my friend Mike’s final resting place, but I’ve never had any luck. My Mom and I were at the grave yesterday, and I had my usual fruitless search, but this time, on the way out, I stopped at the grounds-keeper’s office and asked for help. The guy told us to follow him, drove out — to a completely different section of the cemetery than I’d remembered — stopped his truck, and directed us to Mike’s grave. So much for relying on memory…
I’d never seen the headstone; the last time I was there was for the funeral, just before Christmas in 2003. Now, twenty three years later, my Mom and I were there to place a rock on the stone. We stood by the grave for a bit, reminiscing, and then we headed home.
Here is something I put together just after he passed, a photo collage for his girlfriend, and here are some things I wrote about Mike over the years (though some of the links in that link may be broken).