LEGACY OF A JOURNEY

I have been taking daily walks with my grand children while visiting my daughter and her family in this small town in Texas. Our walks takes us by the town's cemetery which is as old as the town itself. There are graves from the 1800's all the way to the present, family grave sites and graves with pictures of the deceased on them. My youngest grand son, Ethan is 4 years old and oh ever so curious. I actually enjoy having this young mind asking me straight forward questions like "why did they die babajune?" and learning as we do our run and exercise. The irony is that the dead don't seem to care how fast we run or whether we sit on the side of their grave to catch our breath and have a little green drink from granpa's healthy stuff. He has learned to distinguish between couples graves and single people who lay there by themselves. But the beauty is this young kid has no problem accepting that everything and everyone will die sooner or later. He looks at the graves for the little kids who are laying there and says," ohhh they musta had an accident!" And the dead never say anything back to let us know how they lived or died, they just lay there under ground with no care of our passing by.