Robert at his father’s grave, Shen Vasil

It was here, in the cemetery of Shen Vasil, ten years after his death, that my father’s bones finally came to rest.

I had cut the letters of my father’s name out of some stick-on material so that his final resting place would no longer be anonymous. The fact that the cross had not been centered on the top of the grave marker bothered me, because my father had always been a very straight-forward man. Fortunately, that day there were two gravediggers preparing another grave; they had the necessary tools to remove the asymmetrical cross and center it.

Gravediggers, Shen Vasil