One of our parishioners who died toward the beginning of Covid-19 lockdowns (not from Covid) could only have the full burial rites (Air Force leading up to the Church rites) carried out just now, in November. We’re talking Georgia and the military, not my parish.
Being early at the cemetery, there was time to slowly go round about the cemetery. Oh my. The following scene is repeated again and again and again. Everywhere. Those who hate the flag, who hate these USA, should come here, to any national military cemetery, especially when all the flags are out at all the tombstones. But they aren’t worthy to do that.
As always, I got totally choked up finding it very difficult to compose myself during the folding of the flag. It was as if the flag represented everyone in America, everything good for which we recite the pledge as one nation under God, and in particular the veteran who had served all at great risk to himself. We’re talking tenderhearted affection by the military. Especially difficult was when the Airman went down on his knee before the widow, offering her the flag while starting off with: “On behalf of the President of the United States…” The widow had tears streaming down her face…
Afterward, we all trundled off to some old parishioners who had moved nearer their kids quite near the cemetery, all good friends. He was at the top of acquisitions for the Air Force. Quite the reunion of old friends and parishioners. A sorrowful day, but a good day. Thanks be to God.