Proof There Will be No Rest for the Weary, Even Beyond the Grave

Last weekend, we took the kids to Olde Town for a fun-filled evening at a live jazz cafe and strolled around with ice cream cones afterwards. It was one of those times when everything just felt right.

And so it would seem perfectly natural to bring up the subject of…err…death?

The catalyst for our conversation occured on the way home after we drove past our city’s cemetery.

“Have you ever been in there, Jamie?”

“No, I don’t know anyone who is buried there.”

“Where should we be buried someday?”

“I don’t really care. So long as it is under a tree.”

“You do realize that is prime real estate, don’t you?”

“Just stick me in a box under a tree in the mountains. I’m not picky.”

“Nice to know.”

“We could be double stacked.”

“I’d be honored.”

“But I want you on top.”

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