Thanks for setting this up, Peggy.
Reading the posts brings tears to my eyes. I glad "Taps" isn't longer than it is or I'd never make it though to the end. I nearly didn't at my sister's funeral. That was the toughest. And the bugler has to stand tall; maybe that's why many families call on a non-relative to play "Taps."
It seemed all the more poignant this year as 30-odd, old soldiers (a couple of them from Korea) stood in the first wet snow of the season watching the flag be lowered from the pole out front of the store. A few garrison caps were in evidence but few of us still fit in the uniform. Parkas instead. My black beret got wet but not my spirit. And the silver trumpet looks all the better for some water droplets reflecting the muted light.
The village store hosted coffee and pastries afterward. The mood was suitably reverent.
