Tito's Grave

 

Vladimir Vladimirovich sat in front of the stone. On one side Ti, the beginning of the first name, was visible and on the other, To, at what seemed to be the end of the last name. A small 1836 could be made out at the bottom. The rest of the tombstone had been weathered smooth. Behind it a tree grew. It was tall enough to have been growing when the man was alive, but strong and fresh like it was new. Beyond the field of this lone grave was a house, the ruins of it rather. It appeared to have been a castle at one time. Great stones stood there too, like this one, some perched against the others, some by themselves on the ground. 

"Why am I here?" Vladimir asked nobody. 

No one answered, but he already knew why he was there, to say good-bye. All he knew of Tito was chiseled on this slab and mostly worn away. He knew the memory better than he knew the man. Somehow the impact of its presence was profound. It reminded him to count his days. Comparing himself, his life felt fleeting and small. VV wondered what would be said on his burial marker and how long into the future it would be read. Would it be only the first and last letters of his name, like Tito's, VL and CH? Valch? He smiled at the absurdity of it.

How would he be remembered? Kindness to a friend, or unkindness. Celebrations. Songs. Sunrises. Good blackberry jam. He thought of his wife and his daughters.

Did Tito know God? Did this man wealthy enough to have a carved memorial and a castle, if it had been his, take the time to know the most important thing or had he been rushed through life planting all the daisies and picking none? There was no mention of the Almighty on the inscription, though it may have been washed away by the sands of time and the distractions of life like in many lives. VV set his mind then and there that not only would Valch remain on his stone, but a message too. Maybe not even Valch. Maybe only the message. What would it be? Seek God while He may be found. That was how Vladimir Vladimirovich hoped to be remembered. All else would fade away. Everything goes. 

What had happened since the beginning, the beginning, and 1836 and now? Vladimir wondered about life. We see the sun a number of times, then we are gone.

***

Vadim Shefner 

Moment

Don't get used to miracles - 

Marvel at them, marvel! 

Don't get used to the skies, 

Reach out to them with your eyes. 

Look closely at the clouds, 

Listen to the birds, 

Apply to the springs, 

Nothing will be repeated. 

Moment by moment, step by step 

Fall into amazement. 

Everything will be so - and everything will be different 

In one moment.