We watched at a distance as the priest spoke and the family wept. This one was taking longer than usual and we were all missing time off our break. We knew we wouldn’t get extra time for lunch so we were all hoping the family and friends would disperse so we could fill in the hole and go home. He was a grandfather from what I heard, and a member of the local elks club, so one of the senor members of the club was playing his favorite song, and making a real mess of it. Finally the priest did the ashes to ashes dust to dust bit and after a moment of silence they left the freshly dug hole that we now had to fill. It’s not really exactly six feet under. We would never measure but it was more like 5 foot six inches under. I knew this because when I went in the hole to level the sides my eyes were perfectly level with the grass. We would joke whenever any of us had to go in the hole. We would say stuff like “ok, lets do a test run, lay down and we'll drop some dirt in.” but while the family was around we would keep quiet. As we were putting the backhoe in reverse to drop the first lair of dirt I noticed something. A kid, about 6 or 7. His family was taking a walk in the graveyard to find there family plot but he must have suck away and now he watched as about a half ton of dirt was being dropped on his late grandfather. He looked at me with his young innocent eyes and a knot formed in my stomach. It was his first experience with death. I knew this because of the look of confusion and emptiness on his face. I knew that look because I remember when I made acutance with death. His parents eventually came and put him in their car. I went back in the truck and we went to the shed. I put the shovels and spades away and I went home knowing tomorrow I would put another fellowman it the ground, like a tree.
To never see the sun again.