At my father's humble grave, I saw the courageous seasons of his life

We buried my dad last Monday. His four children, grandchildren and those they love woke early on Memorial Day, crowded into two cars and drove to Stuttgart, Ark. In one car, the occupants faithfully played the “Alphabet Game,” watching for each letter on some car or sign. In the other car, we traveled with Dad’s remains in a cube-shaped brass urn with his name, John Burnett, taped on it. Next to his name was a series of numbers representing his... Read More
Posted by Connie Cruthirds at Sunday, June 4, 2017
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