We visited his grave when we were all together for the holidays. We gathered together, huddled together.
It was the cold that drew out tears and made eyes red. It was. Wasn't it? The blowing, biting wind? The chill of remembered loss?
A nearby tombstone boasted an array of pennies, spread out so you could see them all. So many visitors.
Maybe next time we could pass out tokens before we visit. Not just pennies, though. Not just to say we'd visited, but that we remembered.
Maybe next time we leave Hershey Kisses and sticks of Big Red gum.