This Sunday

- Dad, put on my beach shorts.

- Why are you going to get dressed? You better to sit in the sun.

- No please. Come to me! Those girls on the shore are mocking me.

- Girls...?

That's when the phone rang.

- Hello? Yes. Who? Ah, yes. How are you? Yes, tell me.

…Finished? Very good. Did you used the letters that we chose together that day at the office? Good. ...What about the picture? …I do not know. It seemed a bit cold when I saw it that day. Maybe because of the colors…? Did you make the changes we mentioned, the retouching on the computer? Good. …Ok you know. …This Sunday! Yes. His one year anniversary, falls this Sunday. Thank you very much. … Ok. Goodbye.

- Dad, who were you talking to? - asked the little boy.

- I was talking… You don't know her.

- Were you talking about grandfather's grave?

He turned to his daughter and looked at her in surprise.

-Yes honey. We were talking about my father's grave.

The smaller one spoke again.

- Did they make the grave beautiful, daddy?

The man knelt down to reach the height of the boy who stood naked next to him, his stomach jutting out from having just eaten and the blue beach bucket in his hands. He hugged him tightly and put him on his knees.

- I haven't seen it yet honey. I believe they did it nice.

- I want to come and see it too.

He hugged his son again and held back the tears.

-I love you so much!

-Me too. Will you make me a tunnel to the shore, like the one we did yesterday?

- Yes! I will do it.

The three of them sat down on the shore and began to dig a hole with their hands.

- Dad, watch out, the wave came. Oh! See?! The hole is filled with
water!
- We shouldn't have done it so close to the shore. Come on 
let's try again here just above.
Farther on the shore, a little dark-haired boy was diving through the waters like a small fish or a dolphin. 
He had never been able to dive into the water like that. He wanted, but he had never been able to. His father knew how to dive. And he dived like a real shark! He was little and watched in wonder as his father waded waist-deep in water, spun around, jerked up, and then plunged straight back into the water. He looked at him in amazement and it seemed to him that even the sea enjoyed itself when the father plunged and plunged like that in its barren waters. Dad did that job so easily! Like eating a good meal. While he tried but he was small and... he was afraid and... He enjoyed looking at his father. 
…But he could never dive like his father did. Perhaps, because the father did not have the patience needed to teach him. Or maybe, because he didn't have the patience to learn from him either? Who’s fault was it?! They could never find this. Neither when he grew up, nor when he was a child. Perhaps the father had found the reason, because sometimes he told him: "You don't look like our kind!"...
 
They started to dig another hole so they could make another tunnel, as the first hole started to fill with water. Water, then sand, until it was completely flat. As it had been before... Before  pain, before love... Before religions themselves! How good the waves are. They bring everything back to the beginning...
- Dad, be careful! Dad!
How would the situation be if there were no children?!
The second hole was opening deeper...
 
… Then they lowered the coffin slowly. Very slowly towards the pit. With ropes attached to his four sides trying to keep his balance. Finally, he rested down there. 
"Greys to ashes/ clay to clay"... This (not very accurate expression) had occurred to him, even though there was no priest at the funeral ceremony...
- Dad, watch out, the wave is coming! The wave came!
-Don’t worry. See? This time it was not filled with water. Here it is, 
we have the tunnel now. 
               
…He seemed to feel it. On Sunday, the father would look at him from the picture in front of the grave, not very pleased. Gloomy as always. He had a hunch that the computer retouching wouldn't have softened the slightly stark look that the photograph had had from the start. And he would feel guilty. He would feel guilty about something he didn't know. About something he had done or for something he probably should have done and hadn't done. He didn't know that for sure. Who knows why he could not know! He never found it! However, he knew for sure that on that day, in front of his father's grave, everyone would miss him a little. In such cases it always happens. But no one would cry like him. He would cry for his father… and maybe even for himself. He would cry for what he could not take back. He would cry for, even if he could turn life back, he was afraid that everything between them (he and his father) would flow the same way again. Like the first time! 
...Then when the people would calme down a bit, there would surely be someone who would tell them that the tomb had turned out really beautiful. Then someone would ask him how much it had cost. This is a question that never fails. While someone else might want to know how long all that work had taken. And he... He would have to answer them all one by one, while he would have wanted to cry alone and in silence.
…The sun had arched even further to the west. Who knows why his little one gave a pray: "Please, Sun! Don't go down today!"
He knew. The little one prays because he doesn't like the night! 
How he wished he could stay here this Sunday. On the beach with the kids. He said loudly: I wish we could stay here forever!... Maybe he would try to teach to his children what he could never learn himself. He would teach them to dive and enjoy themselves in the sea...
"O Sun, please! Don't go down today!"
Because this Sunday…