a circle of string...

Actually it was a circle of yarn that I found on Daddy's grave yesterday. It was the yarn I wound around the hydrangea and herb bouquet I took to him on Father's Day.

I have a little whisk broom and some garden shears that I take with me with I go visit. I pluck and shear weeds and brush dirt from his headstone. I do the same with my grandparents' marker next to his.

I didn't notice my bouquet was gone at first, but once I did notice I thought it probably had been mowed over or had been blown away once it had become fragile and dry. But then, as I brushed dust and dirt from the back of Daddy's stone I noticed something. The yarn. It was laying on the grave; still coiled. Someone had taken the hydrangea blooms, slipped off the yarn and left it there.

Next time I will bundle some new stems in my bouquet--dried up, very thorny, rose stems. I would have been much happier if it had been inadvertently mowed over. There are plenty of other real flowers left on other graves that have remained untouched. But I suppose dried hydrangeas are worth stealing...

if you're an asshole.