The Final Salute

A majestic American flag flapped rhythmically on a distant flagpole as the mourning crowd began to sing:

"Day is done..." Carrie's eyes grew distant as she remembered their first getaway down to Wildwood along the Jersey Shore:

"Hon, time to go back to the room," James had said as he gently caressed her windburnt cheek. Carrie had blinked a few times as she had awakened from her late afternoon nap, and noticed that her skin felt flaky and taut under his touch.

They had driven down to spend the weekend at the large New Jersey beach to celebrate their graduation from college. He had graduated with a degree in Political Science; she had received a Nursing degree. Carrie's parents had sprung for the weekend vacation as their graduation gift. James's parents would be throwing them a party the following weekend, right before they were both deployed to Afganastan.

As they had walked off the sparsely occupied beach, blowing sand had stung their bare legs. The weather had been unseasonably warm for May, but had still been windy. The few open vendors on the wide aging boardwalk had smiled knowingly at Carrie and James as they had sidled by heading south on the way to their hotel hand in hand, her head resting on his strong arm.

The young couple had enjoyed a very romantic dockside dinner that evening. James had ordered surf and turf; Carrie dined on large, tender sea scallops- the restaurant's special that night. An occasional gust of wind would violently blow through the row of open tables and their napkins would fall abruptly to the faded wooden boards beneath their feet as they steadied the items onnthe table and laughed. Otherwise, it had been the perfect ending to the perfect day.

After dinner, they had returned to their hotel room, had drunk pink champagne with strawberries, and had made passionate love on the King sized bed; then they had fallen into a deep, restful sleep while lying in each other's arms.

"Gone the sun..." As the group continued singing, a few frigid raindrops stung Carrie's face and hid her flowing tears as she returned to the graveside scene. She held back a sob as another distant memory pulled her away from the present drama:

It had been a spectacularly amazing day. James had looked debonair in his black tuxedo and dark paisley vest, and Carrie had been beautiful as the blushing bride in her flowing white gown. As the sun had faded behind the mountains, the ceremony had moved from her parents large stone patio to the waiting white tent on the bottom of the slightly sloping hill below. The clinking of knives against glass, the twinkling white lights under the illuminated tent, the pungent aroma of the roses, the sweetness of the strawberry-filled vanilla wedding cake, and the softness of James's straight blond hair threaded through her fingers as they kissed all came back to her. After the reception, they had sprinted to their waiting convertible with the 'Just Married' sign securely tied to its bumper. Off into the night they sped to the honeymoon suite. They drove with the top down, laughing gayly; the night air blowing wildly through their previously carefully coiffed hair.

"From the lake..." The rain continued pelting against Carrie's face, and she drew the collar of her black coat closer to block the blistering wind. She recalled the time they had spent the following year up at Lake Wallenpaupack in the Poconos:

Carrie had waddled awkwardly to the water's edge, her belly weighing heavily upon her widened pelvis . James had joined her and the tiny waves had lapped against their ankles and buried their toes in the sand. James had grabbed her hand lovingly and had jokingly said with a devilish smile on his face, "You better pop those kids out soon, Hon, or your not going to be able to enter the bikini contest next month." They had both giggled like high schoolers.

Two weeks later the sons had been born on schedule; and not long after that James's leave had ended, and she had had to cope with two newborn colicky babies on her own. Luckily, Carrie had known how important his mission had been and had not resented his absence.

Now, Carrie refocused her attention and gazed down lovingly at the two handsome young blond boys standing still by her side. She squeezed each of their small hands reassuringly, and through their silently streaming tears they smiled up at her.

"From the hill..." Her mind wandered away again as the drving rain transition to snow. Shortly after his next furlow, James had carried Carrie over the doorstep of their first home. The young parents had just celebrated their 3rd anniversary and they had bought a tudor-style house at the top a a high hill in Montclair, New Jersey:

Their quaint little brick house on the hill stood silent now, or did it. At this time of year, the wind whistled through the drafty windows loud enough to wake the dead.

The boys would always get frightened at night when the sound of the screaming winds and rattling shutters would rock through the house. They would run into James's long, outstretched arms and he would scoop them up in a big bear hug. He'd remind them that "not even the Big Bad Wolf could blow down the strong brick house of the Three Little Pigs." Feeling better, they would relax limply against his muscular chest and then he would put them back down and they would scurry off back to bed, and would return back into a deep sound asleep.

"From the sky..." The biting wind brought Carrie's reminiscing to an end. The seemingly endless service was finally almost over. A chain clanged against the distant flagpole. A flock of birds drifted with open wings above them, and the group sang on for what seemed like an eternity.

"All is well..." Carrie knew in her heart that James was still with them despite that last mission in the Middle East that had stolen him from their lives. Their last kiss before James had boarded the plane for his flight had lasted longer than usual and he had hugged her so tightly that Carrie could almost still feel the press of his body against her. For some reason, at he departed she had been overcome by a feeling of dread, and now she knew why.

As they lowered the casket that contained James's lifeless body, Carrie kneeled down holding the folded American flag she had been given. She quietly whispered, "Safely rest, my love," but the words dissipated in the howling wind and sweeping snow.

She still worried about the future as she looked into the identical faces staring at her expectantly at her as she stood back up, spine straight, heels together. Carrie believed that with God's help it would all be okay, and had already been notified that the remaining portion of the mortgage on their house would be paid off. Knowing this gave her some peace of mind. She squinted her eyes as the snow stopped and the hovering cumulus clouds began to break apart to reveal a luminescent winter sun. Carrie led her children closer to the newly covered ground of her husband's final resting spot. Raising her hand, she saluted him for the last time; then turned and led her sons to the waiting limousine.

"God is nigh..."