On Gaudete Sunday I was running in St. Cecilia Cemetery. There was no one except myself and a few hundred gravestones. Near the end of my run, a truck entered and parked in a section with recent interments. As I drew nearer, a gentleman in his late 60s climbed out of the navy blue, GMC truck and walked over to a plot closest to the pavement. He made the sign of the cross and readjusted the Christmas wreath draped over the stone.
My next loop around was the cool down. I noticed the truck and gentleman were gone. I walked over to the stone and read that Lorette passed away in November 2003. Her husband, George, had no death date. Just a blank space.
Was that George? To lose a beloved spouse…I’m not ready for that reality.