Back in our hometown, life unfolds among the tombstones of our family cemetery.  There,  remembrances engraved in concrete or marble, resides our families, friends, schoolmates, to teachers and neighbors who have formed the characters of those tip- toeing through.   The grass covered ground of this final resting place is bumpy and hard but the air is fresh and quiet as the sun shines and the wind blows.  Coming to this hallowed ground as a child, holding my father’s hand, reminded me of going to church.  He pointed out the names of my grandmother and others who like Jesus didn’t exist in my world, gone long before I entered.  Standing and viewing the number of tombstones that have multiplied in number from those days of visitations, I realize this is where my past exists and my future will travel. This is the neighborhood of my life and the place where I will take residence sometime in the future.  It will be the place where my own will tip-toe thru hoping to feel my hugs, hear my laughs and shed tears for the times together that we shared.  As dad taught me, they are not here but only their remains, that we miss.  The soul resides in eternal rest and in the hearts of those who love us. Like in life the bodies of saints and sinners reside together as the body is weak but the soul is resilient and everlasting, rising or decending according to choices and mindset.  The body is the vessel chosen by God to prepare the soul for unending life of glory or damnation. The body like the caterpiller is only the shell to protect, steer and deliver the soul until it releases its final great breath to the butterfly.