Roadside Memorials:

A Meditation on Loss

Not a big fan of driving, I embarked on a fifteen-hundred-mile journey to visit my children. The gnawing ache of separation demanded space for introspection. On the second day, a stark white cross materialized on the roadside, a single word etched upon it: "DADDY." Though a blur at seventy-five miles per hour, it snagged on my attention, demanding a return visit.

Standing before the memorial, the rawness of grief materialized in photographs of smiling children clinging to the cross. My own troubles paled in comparison to the unimaginable loss etched in this roadside tribute. These memorials, scattered like fallen stars along the asphalt arteries, became more than markers – they were testaments to the enduring power of love and the profound sting of mortality.

Beyond mere documentation, my intent is to capture the spirit of these memorials. Each, a testament to a life cut short, transcends the individuality of the deceased. They become universal symbols of loss, raw expressions of grief that defy impermanence. These silent sentinels compel us to confront our own mortality, urging us to cherish the precious gift of time and embrace the love that binds us. They are not mere objects, but portals to a deeper understanding of life, reminding us that even in the face of loss, the power of memory endures.