Walking among fathers

It is father's day in Belgium. Making it very suiting that this day we decided to finally go see the burying place of my great great grandfather who died in the first world war. I know I never knew him, and only know him because of him being killed in the war. But when I looked upon the text written at the base of his gravestone, I felt a connection, for those simple words moved me immensely. Something so simple, and yet just as unachievable as perfection.

It also got me thinking of all the bodies surrounding me. How I was surrounded by potential fathers, who all gave their children the ultimate gift at the ultimate cost. Making this cemetery much more meaningful to me than any of the big shocking ones, because it finally gave me a definite result of these men defending their countries with their lives. That result being found right beneath the eyes searching for it. Me, us. Because my great great grandfather defended his country with so many others, I am now alive to remember him. The greatest post mortem gift I know. Simply to be remembered.