Christian
A village
Funeral
Last Saturday, on 30.04.2025, we buried my father in Hungary. His grave is below a small church in a hollow.
Many friendly people came to the reception afterwards, hardly any of whom I knew. But all of them they all knew my father, and they knew him differently from me.
If I understood the stories correctly: He was a good buddy.
Everyone said that I looked a lot like my father.
After they put the urn in that hole, I somehow understood that my father would not return, and that he was gone forever.