Perpetual French Fries

I don’t guess this really has that much to do with grieving, but it’s sort of amazing.

In the week before Christmas I was on vacation. Debbie wasn’t, and since she works at our church, Christmas is one of her busy seasons.

I went in to help her one morning with some stuff to get ready for the Children’s Christmas Mass. Around lunch time I was leaving to go home, but Debbie was staying on to work some more. I went to the local McDonald’s and bought some lunch for us. I left hers with her at her office and took mine.

It was a pretty nice day for late December, so I took mine to the cemetery. I sat at the garden bench my aunts and uncles bought for us and talked to Richard and my mom while eating lunch. I went over in front of Richard’s stone and told him, “Here have some french fries.” I tossed a few fries on the ground at his grave.

The picture above shows one of those french fries today.

It’s been rained on several times. It’s been covered in snow at least twice. It has been in the sun, wind and nature for a month and a half.

It’s still there.

Bleached out, but still there.

Wow.