ladyleatherneck1 I can't believe I work in this cesspool of emotional entropy.
When I was growing up there was a cemetary in between the elementary school yard and the middle school building. It has been there since the gold rush and is a historical site in the Sierras. There was a gravestone that simply said “A Japanese died here” and the date. I felt really bad. I watched it for years, and nothing… Not even the grass was trimmed. They didn’t even know the man’s name. Everyone needs someone to mourn for them. So I did. It was very spiritual, even though I was young, and I felt like I did a service to someone who needed it.