Melody and I went over to the Fort Snelling cemetery to put some flowers on her grandfather Spooner's grave, which meant we had to stop by the office and find out where he was buried. It's a big cemetery, and it's been long enough since the interment that we would have wandered all day in the rain among the stones without finding it. Fortunately we weren't the only ones looking, and the cemetery staff had laid on extra people to handle the rush. It's a bit staggering to walk among all the stones, looking at the names, dates, ranks and units, thinking of all the men and women who lived through all the wars and died at home or in some hospital somewhere before finding their final rest in this corner of Minnesota. I had to remind Melody that these graves, with the exception of the KIAs from Vietnam, were all veterans who had come home from the wars. The ones who died in the World Wars, Korea, and I imagine in all the little wars since the War Between the States were buried overseas, I explained to her, and her eyes widened as she thought for a moment about all those graves in France, Luxembourg, and elsewhere. Maybe I should have recommended that she reread "In Flanders Fields", assuming that she's already read it. Anyway, the heavy rain held off until we were done finding Bob's grave and leaving the flowers and the flag, for which we were duly thankful.