I wrote this in 1995 while driving with my brother to the dedication ceremony of my dad's headstone in St. Louis. He died several years ago, peacefully, surrounded by his family. It was Memorial Day Weekend when we got together again to say good bye. My dad was a marine and he defended his country in WWII. He went into electronics after the war and settled down with my mom and had me and my three brothers.
My father died the day after Christmas. We buried him just before 1996. My mom died six years later on their aniversary. My wife's Aunt Rita passed away last month.
I buried a cat today. His name was Bingo and he was @17 years old. He died during the night, quietly. He liked to box your ears. He was ravenous for chicken and cheese. He sprayed a lot! once he was hosing down a bush when both his back legs went in the air! One time our neighbors had a truck load of groceries and Bingo jumped up into the bed pulled out a big dinner roast and pulled it out of the truck bed and pulled it under the house. Yesturday, he couldn't walk very well.
There has been so much death. And, well, I wanted to post this sooner but Bingo needed us.
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