We took a few moments on Saturday to walk through the massed flags up at Point Loma. The Boy Scouts that place the flags were just leaving. The wind was brisk, and the sky was grey. We parked our truck outside so those who really needed to park near a grave could do so. We stopped a moment near George’s parents’ marker. Near Dale’s grave was an older man sitting on the sidewalk. He would touch his lips with his fingers then touch the grave.
I looked closer at the gravestones this day because of his gestures….after I wiped the Dale tears out of my eyes.