My daughter and I rode through the cemetery on our bike (we have a tandem). Marvelous looking headstones, huge cypts or tombs or whatever they are called. And some tiny not so marvelous headstones. One indicating the death of two sons. A small angel sits above it, corroded from time and elements. But guards the little space that contains the children. I recognize many names and know what they died from. I am blessed that my children did not die…that I don’t have any life threatening disease and that I am still here. That my number has not been called. I praise God that my legs can pedal this bike.