I didn’t get much sleep due to the constant interstate noise, struggling to fall asleep and waking around 2:00 a.m. to the same steady roar. Scotty, however, slept well—I could hear him snoring—and was up by 7:00 while I dragged myself out of bed.
Our mission for the day was visiting my parents’ gravesite. We stopped at Home Depot for ornamental grasses, and I had already prepared artificial flower arrangements in cone vases. At the cemetery, a caretaker drove us to Section 27 since we weren’t sure of the exact plot. When I mentioned forgetting my clippers, he kindly offered to use his weed eater around the headstone and it looked SO much better. He also shared that the cemetery is maintained by only two and a half workers, with new hires starting at $8 an hour and often leaving for higher-paying jobs at McDonald’s. Afterward, we searched for my grandmother’s grave, which we had found listed online without a section number. The caretakers were mowing on the hill and I didn’t want to interrupt them again, so we decided we might find her resting place on another visit.
It made me reflect on overlooked work. I’m grateful for him, who clearly cares for the grounds despite the challenges, and as always, for Scotty, who dug into the hard ground so we could plant the grasses while I cleaned the headstone. My dad’s nameplate, darkened over time, looked only slightly brighter when we finished, but the gravesite felt cared for again, bringing me a sense of peace.


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