After an awesome week off work I’m back in jail. Ironically enough while reading some bible passages I wondered across the following:
“My soul waits for the Lord more than Watchmen wait for the morning” Psalm 130
On this Saturday morning / Sunday night boredom reigns supreme over chaos in my little piece of hell. I am that Watchman and I’m sorry to report that I have 401 minutes left until 7am. God definitely has a sense of humor.
On a more serious note Sue and I took my mom to my dad’s grave site. It was our first time there. It was a beautiful sunny day, not too hot, not too cool.
After some aimless wondering around Sue found dad’s final resting place.
Dad’s in a pretty nice spot, right by a tree, near enough to sometimes be in its shade far enough away so that he’s sometimes in the sun. My sister comes out often so goodies were lined up by his headstone and at his feet.
We stood quietly none of us fighting off the tears that ran down our cheeks. It was with a bitter sweetness that my ma broke the silence by telling dad his pool was open (again thanks to my Sis Marcie). She then said “Ok Pa we’re going to go now”. I said a quick prayer and with that our first visit was over, short and sweet (I’m sure just as dad would have it)
As we were leaving I hollered back to dad that next time we would bring him a beer and a cigarette.
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