Father's Day

This will be the second Father's Day that I have gone to the cemetary to visit my father. He died last April and I still have a hard time with it sometimes.

Being a father myself, I know things that he went through, and things he felt. I feel like crying sometimes when I think about him. Things I should have said but never did.

When we got to the cemetary, I was taken aback at the number of people doing the same as we were. Not to mention all the flowers and things left by people who had been and gone already.

My kids were walking among the grave markers, too young to understand where we were and why. They were content walking around looking at what others had left for their loved ones. It made me smile.

I intended to make a rubbing of my Father's marker but found the paper I had brought was too small and the crayon did not produce anything. Seems the norm for me lately.

I saw that my Mom had been their earlier in the morning and left some flowers.

As we left, I could not help but think how my children will remember me when I die. Will they even come visit or will they even care. Will I be the father that I should be and my children need me to be, or a father that I regret being and they resent?