Sunday Sunday

The usual today. Visited the cemetary to replace the flowers on Dad's grave. I started thinking about how the living become the caretakers for the memories and lives of the deceased.
If J and I ever have children, we're the only ones who can pass on memories of my Dad, because our children will never know him _ which does make me sad, because if I know anything, it's that Dad would have LOVED my children. He loved all his grandchildren (my nieces and nephews) but I was the youngest, and therefore a Daddy's girl.
Kind of a gloomy topic I guess, but that's the kind of mindset you get from visiting a cemetary on a winter Sunday.
On a slightly brighter note, I heard a bellbird _ there are a lot of trees around the cemetary here, and I know Dad would have liked that.
Two weeks to go on days, then a week off, then back to nights for me. I'm not exactly slavering with excitement at the prospect, but now that I've made the decision, I just want to get on with things. On a bright note, I won't have to battle with myself to get out of bed on time any more.