Took over an hour to go from Washington Boulevard up Route 110 to Memorial Avenue (the road that leads into Arlington Cemetery), but once we made the left turn it was very quick, and the columbarium where my father is was quiet and peaceful. The marker with his name was in place—they said 90 days, but it was just over a month. I’ve been to Arlington quite a few times over the years, but seeing an immediate family member's name memorialized there is very solemn and humbling. I'm glad we went, though in future years we may take the Metro and walk in to avoid the traffic.
Small world: One of my father's law school classmates and work colleagues is around the other side of the same wall. He sold me my first car in 1989.
