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Here lies Amanda Vesueala The headstone is just like I remembered it, only a bit dirtier. It could use a good power washing, especially after the storm we had four months ago. The water washed a bunch of dirt on the Graves and many of them have gone uncleaned. The fake flowers my dad put in the drilled down bronze vase after getting tired of bringing real flowers are still looking well, their reddish-orange dye still showing, even if the sun has dulled the bright color a bit. "I'll confess I haven't come here in a long while Lilac," my dad says putting his hands in his sweatpants pockets. After my breakdown on the fields, he left Axe in charge and brought me here. It's on the outside southern portion of our little community and it's rare anyone comes out here anyways. "Have