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We buried Pop deep in the Earth; just outside of the town he grew up in. A small town in the country of NSW, Australia called Cowra. My cousin was really close to him and she struggled to say goodbye. We sat on a small hill about 20m from his final resting place and listened to the priest as they lowered his coffin. I said farewell and tossed a handful of reddish earth into the grave along with my well wishes but she refused. This is when I snapped this picture. When he was a boy he lived outside of town on a farm and walked to school everyday... it was a Catholic school that vilified the first nations people of that country and the boys' punishments included being beaten with a stick or a strap and then made to sit at the back with "the blacks". First nations people lived in poverty on the other side of the train tracks, corroborees were seen as a threat to public safety and we were at war with "the Japs"... Japanese POW's were imprisoned in the countryside around Cowra and when my Pop was 3 over 1000 of them tried to escape in the "Cowra Outbreak" of 1944; many people died. He remembered being evacuated and the army trucks searching for the prisoners. At the end of it all, we all end up in the same place as dust and food for insects.
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