I am just now returning from burying my last grandparent. My last one ever. For those of us that are adopted we tend to take our future bonds seriously and we hold onto them religiously. For some of us our adopted blood becomes our blood, or at least we allow ourselves to feel that way. When anyone loses a loved one it hurts. It pains your heart and causes you to falter, but you cannot falter because you are a pallbearer. You have a coffin to carry.
We carried my grandmother past the names we didn’t know. We walked past my Uncle buried nearby and stepped around the grave of a friend I still miss to this day, that I know is in heaven. My heart quickened with the sound of the rollers as her coffin was put in place. We stood and sang about what had happened and what…
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