Being a “Grave Hunter” I’ve come to accept death to varying degrees. I suppose it doesn’t hit you in the face until someone you’ve come to know over the past five or more years is there one day but the next day he or she is gone. As in the case of my stepfather.

This past Sunday May the 16th I was downtown grave hunting until my heart’s content at Elmwood. While dancing around the cemetery, taking photos, shooting video footage, and having one hell of a time. The day came to a shattering halt around 10am when my dad called me. Usually around that time he’s in Church so I thought it was odd that he called me when I figured he’d be praising the big guy in the sky.

After getting back to my car from shooting some video I checked the missed call and noticed it was my dad. So thinking how odd it was for him to call me I called him back. Thinking something might have happened to my 80-year-old grandmother I was worried she died. But as I soon found out it was my moms husband my stepfather who passed away. So I immediately stopped what I was doing and headed home.

The thing is I wasn’t really close to my stepfather Joe. But he was like a friend who always gave me advice in a godly sort of way.  He always treated my mom with the utmost respect like a man should, not only that but he worshiped the ground my mom walked on. My stepfather Joe was like an extended part of my mom’s side of the family. I’m just sad to see him go.  I just hope he rests peacefully in heaven.

Joe, I know your watching over us in heaven I can’t tell you how much I appreciated you treating my mom like a queen and worshiping the ground she walked on, and bent over backwards for her. For that I thank you.