Here lies an unknown and possibly illegitimate baby. It was never named,
and was not taken care of in the traditional yearly grave cleaning. When
I was first introduced to this side of Benny’s family, I felt like a bit
of an outsider. So, I knelt down and brushed the dirt and pine needles
away. I poured water on it, and dug a pathway so the mud wouldn’t cover
the sunken stone. This year, the baby got a flower, despite the lack of
pot or urn.
It would cost seventy-five dollars to put a slab under the grave stone
to stop it from sinking, and raise the marker to the height of the other
family members. That should be pretty easy to do in a year’s time.