My Son's Grave

I rode my Harley down to the cemetery where my son is buried. I placed a solar light on his grave and a flowered wreath.  I spent some time there, as I always do, praying and remembering.  It is a bright sunny day here in the Midwest and it was a great ride on my motorcycle.  My son rode motorcycles too.  All three of my son's rode motorcycles.  My oldest son got his stolen and my youngest son sold his.  He is a cop and works a lot of hours now and didn't get to ride it much.
Every time I visit my son's grave, I wonder why and I also wonder if I would have been a better dad in my younger years, if I would have had a better influence on his life, would he still be alive today? 
There are so many questions in life that are unanswered.  Every year from Memorial day through mid July, I am saddened by the events that happened.  He was killed July 6th, 2005 and every year, on the day of his death, I visit the crash site and I visit his grave.  I see the little trinkets his kids leave, the little stones with bible verses on them,  a small Rottweiler dog figurine that represented his dog he had, a model fishing pole, a little motorcycle, yard stones with "I love you" engraved on them, and "Dad's Garden".  My, how this hurts.  The grieving never stops, the void is never filled, and the wound never heals.  Bless God, someday there  will be no more death, no more need of cemeteries, no tears, no sadness, no parting and no loss of loved ones. "There will be no sorrow there, no-more burdens to bear, no-more sickness no-more pain, no-more parting over there and, forever I will be, with the one who died for me, what a day, GLORIOUS DAY, that will be".