Game Graved Successfully

Whenever I traveled on a school trip or with Boy Scouts, we played "punch buggy" or zitch dog" or "yellow car." My wife and I were more morbid, though. We played "My Cemetery." You say "my cemetery" first when a graveyard comes along, and you get a point. We knew how to have fun.

I know what you're thinking, now she's in a cemetery full-time, isn't that kind of ironic? No. She would've been stuck in a cemetery sooner or later. The inevitable happening sooner than expected is not irony. I still find myself calling "my cemetery" when I pass by one, though. The game's a bit one-sided now.

We loved cemeteries when she was alive, we used to take walks through them. My wife has an awesome cemetery to rest in, it's tiny and really old. Some of the stone year dates start with 17--. It's crazy exclusive, too, the only reason she got a space there is because her grandmother was instrumental in restoring it through her church. It's a real, old-fashioned churchyard, one of the oldest in the county. And it's hers now. That cemetery will forever belong to my wife, at least as far as I'm concerned. She'd be so stoked. I may pick up points toward our game alone now, but that cemetery I'll always concede.