Sentimental Journey

We were at Uncle Ted's grave. My brother Dean gently smiled through his tears and cocked his head conspiratorially at me.

"Come here. I want to show you something."

I drew closer and he opened his coat. He pulled out a rosebud that he had apparently pulled from the funeral spray.

"I'm going to put this on Dad's grave. I took one from Uncle Steve's grave last year, too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And I took some dirt from Dad's grave and sprinkled it in Uncle Manoli's garden in Greece."

My brother Dean is over six feet tall, and he weighs at least 200 pounds. He coaches football. But big and tough as he is on the outside, he's just a big softie on the inside.