Sit tibi terra levis
The Glass Shard Beach cemetery has no visitors today. It barely ever does, to tell the whole truth. Not a soul has set their gaze on a gravestone in weeks – no one but the sea breeze, only caretaker left to sweep away the sand.
As for decorations, they do not cross the gates if a coffin doesn't, too. Garlands are either fresh or absent. There is nothing but a handful of pots – some empty, some flipped – to mark the home of rare bouquets.
The flowers which are still there, lonely touches of colour in the marble, the wind will soon take away. When it does, no replacements will occur for a while.
Despite the various level of abandonment, most of the tombs look similar. Tiny specks of dirt, traces of polish – not much is there to set them apart, other than inky combinations of letters.
Even names do not always count. After all, they don't mean anything, once the people one used to love die out and forget them.
For the dirty chunk of marble in the northern wing, that happens to be the case.
What is buried under weeds and moss, within a scrawny outline of moving rocks, is little else than a name anymore. To be fair, the person these remains used to be does not help. So many weights, so many broken things, were dragged inside the same ditch as his body.
When he drew his last breath, in fact, everything around him was in pieces.
As it should, his resting place mirrors but the facts. In the end, something worth being remembered for was not one of his accomplishments. Such if life – if people aren't held back, they tend to walk away. They keep growing.
That is also the case for those he left behind.
He still has got a name and an epitaph. Maybe he owns the bitter irony that carved it on his head. But just a few feet above, where the ocean breathes wide and ties the grass in tangles, the rest of his legacy has long returned the favor.
At the same time, farther within the blue expanse, a boat takes its course, to finally mend the past with a linear voyage. A bus completes its daily road trip across the West Coast, always ready to carry two siblings once more. A young man builds his future from the discarded shelter of several lives.
On the surface of the world, as he lies still in the ground, they move onward.
By the end of this day, the truth has not changed. Filbrick Pines' grave has been left alone for a very long time.
If their choices count for anything, things are going to stay that way.
Here's to moving onward, fellow Gravity Falls fans.