Thanks for your kind words Zenith. I'm getting old, and emotions flow to the surface more easily than they used to do. A tear is running down my cheek.
In my ancestrial home, there is a tridition, after people die, they are often buried in their farm field, it has no marking and headstone, just a pile of earth. and every year the surviving would visit the grave on a certain day, everyone put shovels full of earth on top of that pile and tell the youngster the story of their ancestors, eventually when no one remembers the grave site or stories, it will silently return to be nameless earth. This is our eternity, we live in the hearts we touched. eternally, until it's part of the earth as well.
This is a moment no words are necessary, hugs.