all things done with love

four of us, Pete, Tommy, John and I were priveleged to attend the military memorial service for a downed C 130 pilot yesterday at the Presidio in San Francisco. The oldest brother of four boys, Che joined the Coast Guard with hopes of flying. That he did. and that is how he died, doing a search and rescue mission off the coast of San Diego. His plane struck a Marine helicopter flying in formation on exercises in the same air space. The brothers had lost their mother nine years ago to breast cancer, having separated from their father years before with the divorce of their parents. Dad had moved to France. So much of the ceremony honored the memory of Che and honored the gift of his life. One of the most moving elements of the military honors was the presentation of the flag. A young, African American "coastie" with very erect military bearing slowly marched up the center aisle holding the folded flag before him, placing it on the center table as proscribed by protocol. We heard several speeches, including one each given by the brothers. At the end of the ceremony, the honor guard took the flag, ceremoniously and painstakingly unfolded it, and then reverently and painstakingly folded it again. The most touching part of the day for me was when the African American guardsman held the three cornered flag while another guard smoothed the already smooth triangle and then squeezed any remaining air out of the "package". It reminded me, on reflection, of the way that the priest cleans the chalice and folds the purificator at the eucharist. I've witnessed a priest do that kind of domestic chore on the altar with such reverence and love, that it brought me to tears. The flag is what usually rests on the casket of the deceased. In the absence of the body, the military has created a ritual that infuses every inch of that flag with reverence and love, that it can humanly convey. The flag was then given to the commanding officer, who in turn, gave it to the family. It also reminds me of the love that those of us who love put into making the beds of our beloveds: our spouses, our children, our grandparents and parents, all those we love.