My father likes to go to the cemeteries when we take him out of the senior center for a visit. His parents were divorced and are buried in different places. I bought fall flowers for us to put on their graves. My father jokes that he just likes to make sure they are still there. He also reminds us that some day he will be buried next to his father.

I was only five when my grandmother was killed in a car accident. My memories of her are faint and growing into the matter that only dreams are made of. I remember my grandfather a bit better.

I read in a book once that when you lose your parents you lose your audience. I like the sound of that. If it’s true, l wonder how my dad feels.

I wish death was not always a part of our lives. For us, it isn’t when we are dead. Everyone must breathe until our dying breath. I am not afraid to die. I am more afraid of losing my audience.