A rose to remember Grampa.
My Dad died this May.
A simple box holds his ashes...
A stone defines his life....
One by one we take a rose...
Kiss it...
and whisper good-bye...
Is this good-bye forever?
I don't know if my Dad believed in Heaven.
Look!
The kids are getting wild...
Running around the cemetery...
Laughing...
Playing...
I watch them and I realize...
This is my Dad...
His legacy to the world.
They carry his genes...
His intelligence
His sense of humor...
His spirit of adventure
I know now that my Dad lives on....
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