One night prior to Memorial Day, Heather and I stopped at Cloverdale Cemetary because Ethan expressed interest in visiting where my dad is buried. Then on Memorial Day, he wanted to go with me to place flowers on Dad's grave. "Grave" is a stretch because it's a relatively small niche because Dad wanted to be cremated. Every once in a while, Ethan asks about death and this was no exception. Upon viewing the niche, he asked, "But how did you get him in there?" I asked what he meant, and he responded, "How did you fit him in?" I had to stop to think and quickly pointed to the screws holding the marble plates on indicating we had to unscrew those. He said, "Oh. Yeah." We then walked toward the graves of some dear friends including a woman who was like my second mom, Carolyn. We placed flowers on her grave, and then walked back to my dad's niche. As we walked, Ethan asked "If your daddy is in Heaven, how is he in the cementary (yes..."cementary")?" I tried to explain the body vs. the soul, but he didn't get it. As I talked to him, I got a bit teary eyed, and Ethan wiped a tear off my cheek and admonished me that "Big boys do NOT cry, Daddy." He hugged me and we left to visit the reindeer in the pond near the graves. I'll hide any tears next time.