Happy 100th, Auntie June!

I had requested today off so as to drive over to the cemetery and leave some flowers for Aunt June. I was looking forward to seeing the grave marker that was finally laid on April 22nd. Everything looked perfect and it was nice to sit for a while, under the shade of the giant tree, and think about Aunt June and what could have been. If she had lived a full life, how would that have changed her father and in turn, her brother? How would Grandad Tom have been to have a father that wasn't destroyed by his daughter's death? Would Great-Grandad George have been a better father to his son and then Grandad would have been a better father for my dad? What would my life be like if I had a father who really wanted to be involved and have a friendship where we'd chat on the phone, go see a movie together, or meet up for dinner? But that's a rabbit hole I should avoid. For me, the saddest part is really that once I'm gone, there will be no one left to know Aunt June's name or care about who she was. The gravestone is at least something that marks her life on this earth. 

(I chose the prettiest, pinkest bouquet because it looked ideal for a sweet little six year old girl.)