Grief Revisited: Letting Go Of The Cemetery

A few days before our flight from NYC to Portland I had it on my calendar to pay a visit to the cemetery.

My family bought a plot of land in an empty cemetery decades ago. The first person to be buried there from our family was my grandpa, a man I only know by name, but whose death is felt across generations. At 27 years old, I’ve found myself staring at open-ended questions like, “What…