My father always said when someone dies the body is just a suit of old cloths the spirit doesn’t want anymore. But there we were, half killing ourselves to find a grave, and as cautious as we could be about where we put our feet. We worked a good while at putting things to rights.
…I wanted my father to see it, but I knew I’d have to startle him out of his prayer, and I wanted to do it the best way, so I took his hand and kissed it. And then I said, “Look at the moon.” …My father said, “I would never have thought this place could be beautiful. I’m glad to know that.”
From Gilead by Marilynne Robinson.
Copious Flowers 