Sounds

Today I went to a funeral. It was for Aunt Claire. I am not really related to Aunt Claire but our family has been friends with her family as long as I can remember. Her nieces and nephews shared some of their memories of Aunt Claire and as they talked about her I shared in those same type of memories too. As I stood in the cemetery I could hear the flag flapping. When I turned around I realized we weren't standing very far from were my grandpa is buried. I haven't been to his grave since he was buried. I don't feel bad about not going. I think about him often. I think "oh, if grandpa was here he would do blank or say blank." Or I think grandpa would like this or grandpa would be proud of so and so for doing whatever. After the service we walked over to look for Grandpa's marker. I knew it was close to the flag. Because I vividly remember the sound of the flags in the wind and the sound of the shots that were fired by the veterans. I also remember that I knew grandpa would approve of the location because he was close to the flag. My dad was amazed because he didn't remember the flag poles at all. Today, I marvel at how a sound can take you some place or time with little to no effort. I am very grateful for sounds. Especially the sound of the American flag flapping in the wind on a nice spring day.