The long sleek body of the black limousine reflected the bright green trees and stark white crosses. The limousine moved slowly, it’s tires crunching on the gravel. There was a long line of other slowly moving vehicles following the limousine, which in turn, followed the hearse. They rounded a bend in the road, and came to a stop.
The hearse pulled ahead to the grave site, and the other vehicles sat waiting with their occupants inside. At last, without a signal, all the occupants of the vehicles began to get out, and walk slowly down the hill, towards the mound of flowers at the end of the row. After a few moments, the occupants of the limousine emerged.
A small family, held together in grief, but firm in their resolve to stand up proudly for their lost son and brother... they walked slowly down to the gathering of their friends and acquaintances.
The mother saw a mockingbird sitting on a cross and as she approached the bird turned it’s head and looked at her. It squawked sharply and rose into the air, headed for a close by tree. She reached out to the cross, where a small piece of paper lay. The mockingbird called again as she picked it up and unrolled it.
The paper said “Time is what keeps things from happening all at once.” It reminded her of the slips of paper that were in fortune cookies, and she remembered that last dinner before her son shipped out with his unit. He loved chinese food, and they spent a happy evening in their favorite restaurant.
She stuck the paper in her pocket, and turned towards her family. Their minds were weary, and dulled by the last few days of anguish. No one really understood what had just happened. She felt the tiny slip of paper in her pocket, and wondered how it had gotten there. They walked down, and sat in the chairs placed for them by the flag-draped casket.
The mother tried to listen to the words spoken by her pastor, whom she had known for many years, but his voice just turned into comforting syrup in her ears. Others spoke other sentiments, yet she only heard bits and pieces.
A young man knelt in front of her and held out a carefully folded flag. She took it from him, and admired his firm hands and handsome uniform as he seemed to whisper “... behalf of a grateful...” She smiled at him, and thought about time.
She looked past the crowd of people who wanted to touch and comfort her and saw it was Time that had sent her a 3 year old rolling in the mud and laughing at a frog. Time that had sent him catching that first big catfish in the river. Time that sent him to a high school prom with his carefully combed hair. Time that saw him graduate proudly from boot camp. Time that took his life in service to his country.
She saw it all happening at once. And she flinched when the rifles fired their volleys.