Their Graves Were Side by Side

Shortly after composing "The Next to the Last Chapter" in this blog, I contacted the funeral director I had chosen. I think the second question they asked me was "Are you a veteran?" I recounted my military service to them and they suggested that I bring in my military separation papers. They wanted to see if I qualified for husband and wife burial in Tahoma National Cemetery.

My military service consisted of an 8- year enlistment in the Washington Air National Guard, beginning in July of 1954. As it turned out, after four and-a-half years of that enlistment, I was flying with Northwest Airlines and that qualified me for an occupational deferment.

I spent the final three and-a-half years of my enlistment in the inactive Air Force Reserve. During that time, a lot of my flying was cargo and personnel on military charter flights. I had no actual "active duty" in any branch of the military. But the funeral director said, "The rules are changing all the time, and we'll just check and see if you qualify."

But unfortunately, the military does not make a determination until after the death occurs.

Well, we waited and waited and waited. Finally, just last Thursday I got the call from the military people in St. Louis: Permission denied because there was no active duty. Of course I knew that all along, but that wasn't the question they asked.

So I purchased side-by-side plots at Hillcrest Burial Park in Kent, just three miles from our home. By then, the soonest we could schedule burial was Tuesday, January 19th at 11:00 a.m. ...that was today.

The clouds held back their tears for our brief graveside service. The rest of us, not so much.

Our pastors from El Shaddai Ministries, Mark Biltz and Art Palecek, were on hand to conduct a brief and dignified tribute to our dear Bettie.

It was just the immediate family...and it was sad, very, very sad.

What else can I say.

While the memorial service on January 8th had its sad elements too, it also celebrated a life and was filled with supportive friends and comforting words. And there was the wonderful music, to cap it all off.

Today, there was no celebration.

But there was the lingering lyrics of the song my Northwest Sound chorus brothers had so artistically performed that day:

" ... then one day they died,

and their graves were side-by-side,

on a hill where robins sing

and they say violets grow there

the whole year round,

for their hearts were full of spring

in Love ... in Spring."