Picnic among Headstones: A peaceful Reunion

"I'm in a cemetery. Blanket. Basket. Sandwiches. The whole thing. And I'm just sitting there eating between the headstones. And it's sunny. And nice. And I'm enjoying it. Some people walked by. A couple walking their dog. And they waved. Just waved. And I waved back. And kept eating. And the dog didn't even sniff at anything. Just walked on. And I thought "this is a nice spot." I finished my sandwich and lay back on the blanket and looked at the sky. And the headstones around me were old. Faded. But not sad. Just there. Like trees. Like part of the landscape. And I felt fine. Actually fine. Like I was supposed to be there. My grandmother's stone was to my left. I don't know how I knew. I just. Knew. And I reached over and put my hand on it. Just rested it there. And it was warm from the sun. And I lay there with my hand on her stone and looked at the sky and I didn't cry. I didn't miss her. I was just with her. That's all. And that was enough. I woke up and my hand was open on the pillow. Reaching for something. I sat on my porch. Same warmth, just nice. Didn't tell anyone about it. Kept it."