This weekend I visited my parent's graves. It's been a bit over 2 years. I still think of them often.
I have no illusions about them looking down on me, or up at me, or whatever. Still, I wanted to visit the cemetery in person. That took a bit of a trip - fly from Portland to St. Louis, then drive 3 hours northwest to the little town where they lived and died, and where I grew up. I don't know anyone there now. So it was just go to the cemetery, get lunch, and leave. I pondered a while at the cemetery, walked around, pondered some more, felt like I should be there but didn't know what to do about it.
I can't see well to drive at night, so I stayed overnight in St. Louis, drove to my old town, visited the cemetery, then drove back and stayed overnight in St. Louis again. I know this was not representative of the local cuisine - or maybe it was- but the pasta place where I ate, a "local gem", really sucked.
I had plenty of reading to do on the flight, some continuing education. The flight had wi-fi, so I was able to do the online tests. Then 2 Pimsleur Spanish modules. It was a productive trip.
Glad I don't live in that town any more. Still I feel like a lot of my personality formed there. I was always an outsider, and there was some bad behavior on the part of schoolmates and others. I've gone from bitter-angry to bitter-mixed feelings. Which seems like progress of a sort.
I think my parents would have wanted me to visit them there. So I did. Probably will again.