daughtersofnormabates











{December 27, 2012}   My Father’s Grave at Christmas

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Here is a picture of my father’s grave at Christmas.  A year since his death and there has been no headstone or simple marble marker placed on his grave. What I found today when I arrived were cheap, plastic flowers anchored to the ground where his headstone would be if his wife and “owner” of his body’s final resting place would spend a tiny portion of the cash she inherited from him to buy one. The yellow roses are real–I placed them there beside the plastic flowers. The yellow roses will die in a few days and their ashes will be swept away clean by the wind. Yet the  plastic flowers anchored there by a metal stake will remain, and become more faded and filthy as time goes by. It is a reminder that what is real–not fabricated–will, by the law of nature, die and become organic compound to nourish the soil of the future. What is plastic and inorganic will deteriorate too, but it nourishes nothing. In fact, synthetic plastic adds toxic chemicals to its locality. And one day, those manufactured, phony flowers will sit atop a garbage heap, along with other useless, disregarded waste.

 

 

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