The Way Stone
Grandfather had many stories to tell us. Today he had a wish to go back to the Way -Stone. At his tender age of 102, he had seen many travellers on this trail.
Granting him his wish, on a bed of duck feathers, we carried granddad towards the Way- Stone.
“Nature has changed. Trees have grown where there used to be a clearing. The Way- Stone was a guiding light when I played here as a lad.” said Grandfather.
“You see all the ground stones set up in a row here?” he continued.
“These are the burial sites of our ancestors. They lived on this land with the Way-Stone.”
Pointing a bit forward to a concave area in the grass, he asked me to go forward and brush the grass with my hands.
Sweeping grass to the side I uncovered an anchored door.
I opened the door and peeked inside.
Down below was a beautiful ray of light shining on a bed a grass. Next to it was another bed with my grandmother’s name inscribed on the blanket. A skeleton lay on the bed.
My grandmother had died 15 years ago and we never knew where granddad had buried her.
Grandfather gathers us all together and then solemnly says:
“Today you will leave me here, put me down on my bed alongside my dearest”.