Memorial Day

One of the most moving memorials I have ever experienced happened this week.  I don’t recall ever being near enough to fully observe the interaction of an Honor Guard with the family of deceased military.  It was truly amazing. 

John Gross

My Uncle John had served in the Army during the Korean War, and during the viewing his veteran’s flag was by his casket.  This flag draped his coffin as it was moved from funeral home to gravesite, where two Army Honor Guard soldiers stood at attention.  As one saluted the casket, the other—a short distance away—played “taps” with perfection.  Then, in synchronicity, they gathered up the flag, and with short, precise movements they began the process of folding Uncle John’s flag.  The soldier in charge used slight finger motions to indicate when and where to move; necessary for the crisp folds they created.  The subordinate soldier began the triangulation, and caressed each fold with her gloved hand.  The final section was neatly tucked in, each point was sharpened, and the folded flag was held to the body of the subordinate soldier before she handed it over to the soldier in charge.  He, in turn, held the flag to his body before formally and respectfully walking to my aunt, kneeling before her, and addressing her with a voice of deep compassion.  Sitting directly behind her, I heard every soft-spoken word and saw the look on his face.  This young soldier, certainly still in his twenties, bore a heavy responsibility as he spoke these words:

“Ma’am, I am so sorry for your loss.  On behalf of the President of the United States and the people of a grateful nation, may I present this flag as a token of appreciation for the honorable and faithful service your loved one rendered this nation.”

The complete reverence and respect given to my uncle, from this young man who may not have even seen his face, was shocking.  He took his job seriously, knowing the deep significance this ceremony played in the grieving process of veterans’ families.

Uncle John and Aunt Roxie; so sweet!

But he wasn’t the only stranger paying his final respects to my uncle that morning.  As the procession wound its way from the funeral home to the cemetery, it appeared as if the entire town was on pause for us, in respect for the deceased.  In this fast-paced society, it is not common for the oncoming cars to completely stop, but there was not a single car which did not stop for us, going in either direction.  And an even greater shock—city employees stopped their roadwork, stood at attention facing the procession, helmets off, bowing their heads in respect as we passed by.  I waved to show my gratitude and a slight nod from several of them showed me that they were actually paying attention to each individual person who passed by.

I'm the one with the Raggedy Ann.

It touches my heart that, in so many ways, from the fond recollections written and spoken about an amazing husband, father, and grandfather; to the respect shown by complete strangers, my uncle was honored in a way which was fitting to his gentle and loving soul.

I will miss the man who rarely called me by name; who instead addressed me as “Pretty Girl”, and I pay homage to him on this Memorial Day.  He was a son, a brother, a soldier, a husband, a father, an uncle, a firefighter, a worker, a craftsman, a grandfather, a gardener, an encourager, a neighbor, and so many other things.  I loved him, and he was worth loving.