but I
managed to hold it together for Liam.
I reached for his hand, but he jerked it away
and closed his eyes, refusing to look at me, refusing to need
me.
With an effort of will, I took his hand
anyway, holding it tightly until the memorial service came to a
close.
Then, gently, he freed his hand from mine and
stepped out of the pew, striding toward the flag-draped casket.
It wasn’t long before the chaplain led in
exiting the chapel, followed by the volunteer pallbearers—one of
whom was Liam.
Soldiers and honor guards formed a line from
the entrance of the chapel all the way to the hearse, each saluting
as the casket passed, hands coming crisply to the corner of their
brows.
By the time the hearse arrived at the
cemetery, dark clouds had blanketed the sky and a chilly breeze
carried hints of a storm to come.
After the chaplain had said his final words,
the honor guards held the American flag taut over the casket.
In the next moment, seven riflemen fired a
three-volley salute.
Then I heard the somber farewell tune… the
sound of “Taps” played on a bugle.
The air seemed to quiver with mourning, and
my gaze settled on Liam.
He and the rest of the soldiers stood on
guard, creating a perimeter around their fallen brother.
Lightning streaked across the sky, followed
by a clap of thunder.
Liam remained stoic, standing at rigid
attention, his eyes hollowed and shadowed.
Soon the heavens opened up and rain began to
pour, but no one flinched despite the cold and chill it
brought.
And no one moved except for the honor guards
with gloved fingers. With slow precision and meticulous attention,
they folded the flag thirteen times.
I’d learned about the symbolism behind the
thirteen folds.
The first fold was a symbol of
life.
The second fold was a symbol of our
belief in eternal life.
The third fold was made in honor and
remembrance of the veteran, Matt Garcia, who gave a portion of his
life for the defense of our country to attain peace throughout the
world.
The fourth fold represented our weaker
nature.
The fifth fold was a tribute to our
country.
The sixth fold was for where our hearts
lie.
The seventh fold was a tribute to our
armed forces.
The eighth fold was a tribute to the
ones who had entered into the valley of the shadow of
death.
The ninth fold was a tribute to
womanhood, for it had been through their faith, love, loyalty, and
devotion that the character of the men and women who had made this
country great had been molded.
The tenth fold was a tribute to the
father, for he, too, had given his sons and daughters for the
defense of our country.
The eleventh fold, in the eyes of Hebrew
citizens, represented the lower portion of the seal of King David
and King Solomon and glorified, in their eyes, the God of Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob.
The twelfth fold, in the eyes of
Christian citizens, represented an emblem of eternity and
glorified, in their eyes, God the Father, the Son, and the Holy
Ghost.
When the flag was completely folded, the
stars were uppermost, reminding us of our national motto, “In God
We Trust.”
The entire flag-folding ceremony was marked
by silence.
Now the wind grew stronger, whipping up a
miniature tornado of leaves as one of the honor guards moved
forward and presented the tri-cornered flag to Camille Garcia.
“ As a representative of
the United States Army,”—the strength of his voice rent the air—
“it is my high privilege to present you this flag. Let it be a
symbol of the grateful appreciation this nation feels for the
distinguished service rendered to our country and our flag by your
son.”
Shortly afterward, the crowd began to quietly
slip away, disappearing into a thick wall of rain.
Soaked to the skin, I stood in the rain,
waiting for Liam to come to me.
It was moments before he approached, striding
toward me with purpose. “I want
managed to hold it together for Liam.
I reached for his hand, but he jerked it away
and closed his eyes, refusing to look at me, refusing to need
me.
With an effort of will, I took his hand
anyway, holding it tightly until the memorial service came to a
close.
Then, gently, he freed his hand from mine and
stepped out of the pew, striding toward the flag-draped casket.
It wasn’t long before the chaplain led in
exiting the chapel, followed by the volunteer pallbearers—one of
whom was Liam.
Soldiers and honor guards formed a line from
the entrance of the chapel all the way to the hearse, each saluting
as the casket passed, hands coming crisply to the corner of their
brows.
By the time the hearse arrived at the
cemetery, dark clouds had blanketed the sky and a chilly breeze
carried hints of a storm to come.
After the chaplain had said his final words,
the honor guards held the American flag taut over the casket.
In the next moment, seven riflemen fired a
three-volley salute.
Then I heard the somber farewell tune… the
sound of “Taps” played on a bugle.
The air seemed to quiver with mourning, and
my gaze settled on Liam.
He and the rest of the soldiers stood on
guard, creating a perimeter around their fallen brother.
Lightning streaked across the sky, followed
by a clap of thunder.
Liam remained stoic, standing at rigid
attention, his eyes hollowed and shadowed.
Soon the heavens opened up and rain began to
pour, but no one flinched despite the cold and chill it
brought.
And no one moved except for the honor guards
with gloved fingers. With slow precision and meticulous attention,
they folded the flag thirteen times.
I’d learned about the symbolism behind the
thirteen folds.
The first fold was a symbol of
life.
The second fold was a symbol of our
belief in eternal life.
The third fold was made in honor and
remembrance of the veteran, Matt Garcia, who gave a portion of his
life for the defense of our country to attain peace throughout the
world.
The fourth fold represented our weaker
nature.
The fifth fold was a tribute to our
country.
The sixth fold was for where our hearts
lie.
The seventh fold was a tribute to our
armed forces.
The eighth fold was a tribute to the
ones who had entered into the valley of the shadow of
death.
The ninth fold was a tribute to
womanhood, for it had been through their faith, love, loyalty, and
devotion that the character of the men and women who had made this
country great had been molded.
The tenth fold was a tribute to the
father, for he, too, had given his sons and daughters for the
defense of our country.
The eleventh fold, in the eyes of Hebrew
citizens, represented the lower portion of the seal of King David
and King Solomon and glorified, in their eyes, the God of Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob.
The twelfth fold, in the eyes of
Christian citizens, represented an emblem of eternity and
glorified, in their eyes, God the Father, the Son, and the Holy
Ghost.
When the flag was completely folded, the
stars were uppermost, reminding us of our national motto, “In God
We Trust.”
The entire flag-folding ceremony was marked
by silence.
Now the wind grew stronger, whipping up a
miniature tornado of leaves as one of the honor guards moved
forward and presented the tri-cornered flag to Camille Garcia.
“ As a representative of
the United States Army,”—the strength of his voice rent the air—
“it is my high privilege to present you this flag. Let it be a
symbol of the grateful appreciation this nation feels for the
distinguished service rendered to our country and our flag by your
son.”
Shortly afterward, the crowd began to quietly
slip away, disappearing into a thick wall of rain.
Soaked to the skin, I stood in the rain,
waiting for Liam to come to me.
It was moments before he approached, striding
toward me with purpose. “I want
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