Deep black like coal and shiny as well the curved rectangular box sits in the middle of a field surrounded by other boxes that are perhaps not nearly as beautiful, but do however hold the same purpose. The shiny flakes of the dark stone dance in the rays of the sun often seeming to reflect off the campfire scene that was carefully etched into the stone, roughing up its beauty in a way, but making it more beautiful in another.

Perhaps the most significant part of the box isn't the stone itself but what the stone is trying to portray, with the small seven letter word written in the bottom left hand corner, Timothy, and the six letter word matching it on the right, Laurie.

It is with the littlest of detail that the looker truly sees. Perhaps the shiny black box is just that. A reminder forever that the woman whose name amounts to six letters on the right was left alone with their three children; so simply indicated on the back of the black box with their names written in a heart, together forever as it is set in stone.

The St. Bonaventure Cemetery consists of hundreds of tombstones and just as many flowers to match. The sun shines bright there and the trees stand tall, making the numerous grassy areas home for the smallest of animals. The men, woman, and children that encounter this place may see it more as a golf course as the course is right next to the cemetery. Although this is the case it hasn't made me a big gollfer, but has provided me with a beautiful place to sit and talk to my dad.

Father's Day is hard. Remembering what it was like to spend time with my dad in person on a day that was meant to honor him.

Maybe that in person time was spent as I watched my younger sister beg to ride around on his lap while he mowed the lawn. His freckle covered chest sleek with sweat and curly red hair. He smelled of old spice deodorant and dirt, that not only covered his slender figure, but the bottom of his hiking boots as well.

Maybe it was spent outside. Sitting close to the grill, taking care to make sure that nothing went amiss with his burgers was a must. Slicing that extra piece of Velveeta cheese, having him realize I'd "accidentally" cut more than I should have, and giving that piece to me was also a must.

Maybe we'd spent countless hours swimming. He'd wear the nose goggles and we'd hold onto his shoulders and dive under water. It felt like some sort of underwater adventure.

Maybe it was time simply spent doing nothing at all, but appreciating each other's company.

I don't get to have that "in person" time with my dad anymore. Not on Father's Day, and not on any day of the year. Even though I wish everyday this wasn't the case I am so thankful for the memories that I have of my dad. He was a great man, with a big heart. I am so thankful that he has contributed to who I am today. Happy Father's Day Daddy. I love you with all of my heart.