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PLAINS TWP. &mdash; There are several things I struggle with, many of which some would find odd.
				But one thing I absolutely dread is visiting the gravesites of my mother and father.
				There, I said it.
				But it is true.
				There is not one day that passes that I don&rsquo;t think of my parents, pray for them and draw on what they taught me to make my life more worth living.
				Yet, visiting their final resting places is more difficult than you can imagine.
				First of all, the emotion attached to these visits is overwhelming. The fact is that I miss them every minute of every hour of every day and I am as grateful as any son or daughter could be and I am grateful for all they provided me, from the wisdom of their words and actions, to their exemplary actions as they lived their all too short lives, to their courage, compassion and humanity.
				But even as I thought about visiting their graves on Sunday, I was overcome with emotion. But I persevered and I visited both gravesites.
				My mom is buried in St. Mary&rsquo;s of the Nativity Cemetery in Plymouth Township. She is buried in the same plot of graves as her brother Chester Bodzio and her sister Helen Supchak. My mom was placed there because in 1968, my dad had never even thought of planning for such a time. My mom was 42 when she passed.
				It was an absolute horrible time. So my dad accepted Aunt Helen&rsquo;s offer to have my mom buried on her family plot.
				Whee dad died in 1995, he was buried on his family plot next to his parents and grandparents at Edge Hill Cemetery in West Nanticoke.
				So when I visited both sites, shovel in hand to clean up as best I could, again I was wrought with emotion. Now I have had these breakdowns from time to time, but when I sit and say my daily prayers, I take time to have brief conversations with mom and dad to bring them up to date on my life and to let them know that I continue to use their examples as my guide for living in a much different world than they ever knew or could have imagined. This, yon see, is somewhat therapeutic for me.
				But when I stand at their gravesites and stare at their grave markers amid all those others, I lose it. I know that it is respectful to visit their graves, but for me, it is something I dread.
				In fact, in the spirit of full disclosure, I am struggling as I write this column. I tell you that because I sense that there are others who may have the same difficulty in visiting the graves of dearly departed family members.
				Anybody who knows me, knows how I feel about my mom and dad. Like I said, they are with me daily and I am sincere when I say that I feel I keep them alive inside me by remembering them and thinking of them every day.
				Coming to grip with one&rsquo;s mortality is not easy for me or anybody, I believe. The reality of what&rsquo;s will inevitably happen to each of us is not something I want to dwell on. Instead, I choose to keep my parents alive through my mind and memories.
				So on Memorial Day 2020, as we cope with the uncertainty of life itself because of this pandemic, I remember all who have passed and I pray for them.
				My mom and dad may be gone and buried, but as long as I&rsquo;m alive, they, too, will live on.

Coping with Corona: Rest in peace, mom and dad