For the One Who Wasn't There

Today,
I went to my grandfather's church's cemetery.
It was his turn to take care of the grounds.

My uncle, his son, Is buried there.
He died just before he turned nineteen.
I never met him

He was a veteran. His veteran plaque next to his headstone was covered in dirt and grass.
Carefully, my grandfather washed the grime away.

My grandfather is very old. He is silent. When he speaks, people listen.
My grandfather is strong. He shows little emotion. He works, constantly.
He bears his cross without complaint.

The reason I was in town was because our whole family had decided to get together.
His children were all there at his house. While we were here. Working.
All of his children but one.

I'm one of the few who has seen my grandfather's emotion. I have seen him angry. I have seen him laugh.

Today, I saw my grandfather leave the grave of his son.
Today, I saw my grandfather in pain.
For the son who couldn't be with us today.
And as quickly as the pain had shown, it was gone.
My grandfather.
Stoic.
Silent.

Suffering.