I drove Beck, Sio and Grandma to the Lusk today to visit Dad’s gravesite. This is always such a somber part of my trips home, and there are times when I just dread it. I know that I’ll feel like crap after being up there, but I know I need to keep going too. I need to keep as much of him alive in me as I can, and this is one way of doing that.

This was the first time Grandma had been on that part of the mountain in years. She used to walk all over the top of the mountain a decade or so ago, and it was nice to carry her around up there, and let her see it again.

She and I sat on the bench at the gravesite, and talked about Dad. Becky asked some really innocent questions about Mom and Dad as youngsters, and that opened the gates…. the stories just began to pour out.

It was kinda surreal to me. I mean, I’d sat around I-don’t-know-how-many gatherings with some subset of dad’s family sitting around, each of them telling tales on the others. This was just like that, and really brought back some great memories for me. I mean, with all the brothers Wright gone, there’s just not a whole lot of those reflective sessions happening anymore. Add to that that the stories are all second hand now, and, well…. it’s hard to bump into them anymore.

In a funny kind of way though, this was very healing for me, and I’m really happy that I travelled over to Lusk to see him. I have a feeling that the dread and darkness may be a little less next time.