The golden, fire light flooded the sky in gentle fractals, as the scent of pine was strong with the cool, crisp breeze. Many others think of woods and forests when I mentioned pine, others may have thought of woodwork, or campfires, or even candles; but I think of pine as a resemblance of home and memories. To this day, I am still the hike and bike lover, I feel at home with the scent of pine and other woods. Wherever else I am, instead of the woods, I feel uneasy...
We were on our way to the fields where herds of cattle graze on the sprouting bluebells and bloomings of payette penstemon; the gentle grasslands of Idaho. Most of the time, our family takes trips on the unraveling roads to a crazy, but fun family reunion. However, this time, it was something mournful and sorrowful. Flashbacks came to me as we were headed, not to Mackay, but elsewhere; as the scent of pine entered my lungs.
It was a day like any other, until we got a heartaching call that no one wishes to receive. I could see grief but acceptance grow in my father's heart. As he told my mother, I could see remorse in her eyes. Then my father told my brother and I, to which we were also filled with sorrow. I was of course bummed, but I understood that it was bound to happen eventually. I thought of all family reunions that had gone by; knowing they will never be the same. I took deep breaths as I closed my eyes, being as positive as I could. I told myself that at least we'd be getting out of the house (considering it was summer). Then I saw visions of the woods surrounding the place of where our family reunions occurred; Mackay.
When we arrived, we entered the resting place for many lost loved ones. I got out of my father's silver GMC, as I hugged my cousins, and then my grandmother. It then occurred to me that it must be the hardest for her; she lost her father. It started to rain as we got seated in the chairs. As soon as family members and friends of his made heartfelt speeches of him, and as the honor barriers leveled the coffin in the grave (two being my father and uncle) the sun cast a sparkling, warm net around us; like a hug.
After his coffin was rested in the dirt, my cousins, grandmother and I all shedded one last gleaming tear. We all stood up and were getting ready to pack everything up, as I wandered over to where his headstone would be centered. I looked at his picture as I read the loving motto on the back: "John is like a butterfly; he goes wherever he pleases, and pleases wherever he goes." I smiled at that, it was true. A pine tree was standing tall, right next to me.
When I look back on this sad day, I always think of the pine tree next to his grave too, hoping to make a visit again someday. I miss him, he was an amazing person to everyone, touching the hearts of many and making such a great impact on so many lives. I wish to portray the same characteristics and personality of him. I looked at the pines surrounding his forever home. As I flicked the old lighter, it generated a spark; reminding me of my great-grandfather. His spirit is still with us, forever roaming the afterlife. I will never forget the memories of him.
