She looked at the photograph of her son. He would always be seven years old, tow haired and missing two front teeth. Grasping the framed photo tighter in her quivering hands, so tight that the corners of the brass colored left impressions in her flesh, she looked at the American flag covered coffin before her. She shook her head as if to shake the vision from her sight. "That can't be Kevin in there," she said to her self more than anyone else.
Four Marines, in full dress uniform, stood at attention around the coffin, two on each side. She knew two of them were sergeants from the local marine recruiting office. The other pair was her son's buddies who had served with him in Iraq. She bit her lip to beat off a thought that struck her as being totally selfish. Yet in a small way she still wished that it be true. Why do I have to be the mother mourning her death of her son? Why couldn't it been one of their mothers crying their heart out for their fallen baby today?
Tear drenched eyes drifted back to the photograph. She desperately wanted the reality of that photograph to be the presence of her mind today "Mommy I made you breakfast. I fixed you peanut butter and banana and pickle sandwiches. I for got which you like best banana, or pickle so I put on both." Then there was: "Mommy I love you. Will you be my mommy for ever?"
She couldn't deny there were some times he could be an honest
to goodness Dennis the Menace'. "Mommy I didn't mean
to spill ink all over Fluffy. We were just playing Detective'
and I was trying to take her paw prints..." Or” Mommy, we were
just playing Pirates, I am sorry I can't remember where we
buried your jewelry. Fluffy ate the map." Then there were the
times that Kevin made her so proud” Mom don't worry about Dad
leaving. I 'm eleven now, I'll take care of you
now."
Then just two years ago he showed her what a man he had become.
"Mom, I know Tom will never be able to take Dad's place,
but he still is my dad, just the same. I just wanted you to know
that."
The sound of taps being played from a boom box brought her back to the grave side. His grave side. She frowned. Couldn't they have sent along a real bugle player?
Her musical critique was cut short by the folding of the flag. No
longer would it be shrouding her son's new home. This is where
she came in.
She clutched his photograph tighter to her chest. She didn't want to let go of the image his life so she could take hold of the banner of his death. Please Lord give me strength.
Two of the marines finished folding the stars and stripes into a tidy triangle. Then in a matter of military routine and protocol, one of them using moves of military refinement carefully placed a hand under and over the flag. Continuing this formal presentation with a series of stilted right angle turns he came to stand directly in front of her.
The marine then lowered the folded flag to her grasping hands. She took it and placed it on her lap, over her son's photograph. It seemed fitting to her in a way. That flag had covered her son as he lay in state, in the coffin. Now it was draped over her son's photograph.
Bringing herself back from her reflective thought, she realized that the Marine was still bending toward her. He smiled and leaned toward her ear and began speaking in a whisper. "Mom, I just wanted you to know that I was with your son when he died. Before he passed on he told me something to tell you. He said, "I lived my life according to my purpose here on earth, helping others live there lives as God intended"
The Marine straightened up as she smiled and whispered back, "Thank you." She realized she was not just thanking him for the flag or the kind word. She was thanking him for giving her son back to her.
Before retreating back to the coffin the Marine gave her an honorary salute. She saw Kevin, in her minds eye, doing the same. He was not that freckle faced boy with missing tooth, anymore. He was that young man who went off to war of his own volition, carrying in his heart an offering of total sacrifice. She remembered his own words to her after he dropped the bomb that he had signed up for a second tour of duty in Iraq.
He had only been home a few months from his first duty, and she had been living in peace with the understanding that he would be working as a recruiter in town. "Mom, I hope you can understand that I'm not just serving my country. I'm also serving a country that is struggling to rebuild itself from the ground up."
She tried to understand then. But seeing a possible future that was only months later brought to a tragic reality, she could only see despair. But now? Now that he was being laid to rest? Now that she had to memorials of his life resting on her black skirted lap, what did she see?
She answered that question for herself by retrieving her son's picture from under the flag and placed it on to of the blue and white star field. "I see a true hero. I see my son."
