inbetween

Before leaving Waco to go to Amarillo, I visted Kyle's grave. I do not understand visiting someones grave. It always makes me feel strange. After visiting it, I drove to Amarillo. I thought this up on the drive.

It was as bare as I had last seen it. No grass had sprouted. No tombstone had been placed. Only a rectangle of dirt was proof of the occurrence. I began to notice the environment around the spot. There, in that spot where Grace was sung by friends and family, across from the playground where Grace plays, where tears fell, laughs sounded, hugs given, and kisses recieved, lies the bare rectangle of dirt between two trees. Between two trees...

There was once a beginning. There will be an end. However, in the meantime, the inbetween time, there is now. You know what I am talking about; I feel like a broken record. This is all we have for now.

...how appropriate. He was fully alive in this moment. Not the one before or the one to come. Always alive in the present moment. Sure he hoped in the next, but I think he realized that how we view this moment affects our perception of the next. Maybe I'm wrong. However, I feel that I'm right. In fact, I have friends that can tell story after story that prove it. Ask them. We all love telling them. After all, who doesn't love a story filled with laughter, love, and friendship? peace