It's never as easy as it seems. That's how much of life is like. In this case, I'd like to place my father's ashes in the ground next to Jason, his deceased son. However, the plot of land for that burial is owned by Fred Roschetzky, a somewhat step-father figure to Terry about 40 years ago. He didn't marry my grandmother Betty but he was close enough to the family that Jason's burial plot was put in his name. Now, 35 years later, I'd like to add another family member to that space but I need Fred's permission, or his next of kin's permission. I've found two sons that live in the Corpus Christi area with some help from my Aunt Laura. She remembered a son, Dennis. I left a message with him and will try again tomorrow if he doesn't get back to me.

I got a little sad again a few days ago after talking to a lady from the memorial home in Corpus Christi. I'm not sure what it was that set it off in mind, but I thought about how my dad will be placed next to his first tragic event in life. The next tragic event being his brain tumor. He said he wanted to be placed by Jason and yet later in life he distanced himself from those memories. He once told me that was so long ago it needs to be left to the past. But I think that's his peculiar way of showing how much he cared about him. You see, my dad distanced himself from people he cared about the most, as if his life was some plague that could poison his loved ones. That distancing included me, which as endearing as it may sound with this interpretation, it actually leaves a huge hole of hurt in my heart.

Some day I'll come to better terms with all this. Until then, I've got runny noses to wipe, diapers to change, and little boys to feed.




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