Cemetery

I moved away after high school at the age of 17. I returned to visit several times and actually, after 7 years, returned with my newly formed family for a 4-year stay. Moreover, I now feel bad about the fact that I moved 2000 miles away and for all of 55 years, I did not visit the CEMETERY where my father and grandparents were buried. It seems when I was young, I only focused on the future, where I was going-not from whence I came. When I got older and refocused on my past, the familiar stirrings of my soul became one sad commentary. And I was to blame. I presently have a self-inflicted sore spot that occasionally ails me for being so unattached that I failed to visit the CEMETERY for so long a period. I have mixed feelings about unveiling my soul to you. Moreover, the visit to the CEMETERY a few months ago was also a flashback to second grade, because it was the church where I attended school. The CEMETERY had become overcome with weeds, and the church building was in disrepair. Not far away was the homesite where I was born. The site was there, but not a trace of the house. All and all, this visit turned out to be a sad one, because I could not identify my father's grave and my house of birth was gone forever. Time does not wait; nor does it have a rival. Time hid my father's grave, and time destroyed the house of my birth. 020323PSCtest, Writing Challenge-C Words. Constance La France The Word chosen: Cemetery. 1P