Dad was born and raised in Seville, Ohio. Population there, he said, was about 1000 people. As a young adult he couldn't wait to get out. And get out he did. But as happens with many, he had an affection for that sweet little village and it was his wish to be buried there in the family plot in Mound Hill Cemetery next to his mother, father, stepmother, sister and the generations before them.
We buried him there on Saturday after a tender service at the church our family has attended for well over a century. It feels good to know he's there.
We spent four days there with family. Beth and I spent much of the time staying with the one cousin who still lives in Seville. Another cousin rode his motorcycle down from St. Paul, Dad's sister flew in from Boise and the rest of the local family joined us in laying him to rest.
We spent out last night at our uncle's home. His wife raises horses. She invited us to watch one of her assistants exercise one of her stallions. There's a track inside the barn:
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