The photo from the florist in Indiana arrived yesterday.
It used to be a Polaroid sent to me USPS. Now it's a
digital photo sent to me via e-mail. They send a regular
photo as well. I guess they take those for people without
computers. I should get that one next week.
Steven's grave had the flowers I sent and some from his
cousin as well as a small American flag the Boy Scouts put
on each of the graves. The grave looked well taken care of.
In fact, it looks pretty much as it did last year and the
year before that. That's the way it is, isn't it? Just
like his grave, Steven never changes. He'll always be
twenty three years old. When you die young you remain young
forever. Steven was just a few months older when he died
than my oldest son is now.
At church this morning, when the pastor asked for prayer
concerns, I asked for prayers for those in the military now,
for veterans and for those who'll never come home and for