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Good morning, Reonuts and a blessed Memorial Day to you all.
On this Saturday morning past I attended the funeral service for my best friend's son, who passed away unexpectedly several months ago. (His father, Gerry, still remains in the hospital breathing on his own despite life support having been disconnected. Obviously Gerry was unable to attend the service.)
Aaron, a Navy veteran who served as a catapult officer aboard an aircraft carrier was interned, (his ashes) at Ft. Logan National Cemetery. The Navy provided a military honor guard which included a
three volley rifle salute and a bugler to play Taps. Although I've rendered a hand salute at 23 police officer's funerals it was the first time in almost 40 years that I've had the opportunity to do so since I left the military. It certainly brought back some fond, and not so fond memories. (Military protocol allows for veterans to render a hand salute while either in or out of uniform during the playing of Taps. It was a moving service, one befitting a man who earned it.
After the service I made my way to another section of the cemetery and spent time in quite solitude at the grave of another man who earned the honor of being interned in a national cemetery. It's the only piece of earth that makes me cry. Perhaps I am just getting old and overly sentimental...
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... or perhaps some of the things he taught me about life are starting to make
sense.
Jack