The first involves our granddaughter. After laying the last wreath I had in my hand, I turned to accept additional wreaths. As I did, I saw my granddaughter on her knees placing a wreath on a gravesite. Tears welled in my eyes as I realized the site was her (mother’s father) grandfather’s who had recently passed away. She was in a quiet, reflective moment herself.
The second one involves a child. I saw balloons and flowers and items decorated on a grave site. The mother was standing there, head down, tears in her eyes holding a baby on her hip. I asked her if this gravesite was her child’s. She confirmed the child was hers and added that her husband was in the military away on duty. Her daughter, she said “was killed in untethered jump house”. It broke me up seeing a child buried there.