A Military Funeral IN Oklahoma

“You have his nose.”
Another stranger speaks.
One by one they walk down the line
of family members,
shaking our hands.
The hands of strangers,
gathered together at a military burial ground
in Oklahoma, honoring the man
they knew as a friend.
The man my mother said was a great guy,
except for the drinking.
The man I had reconnected with
only a few years ago.
The man who walked me down the aisle
four years ago.
The man who met his only granddaughter
three months ago.
The man who told me had stage 4 cancer
two months ago.
The man I flew out to visit
one month ago.
The man who I saw take his last breath
days ago.
The man I love but will never know
as a father today.
And forever.

 I watch as men in uniform hand
his wife an American flag.
“That should be my mother’s,”
I whisper to myself.
The backs of the strangers
disappear beyond rows
of white gravestones, and I know
we will never meet again. 

Trish is a published author and freelance writer whose writing focuses mainly on mental health, parenting, and her Asian American culture. You can view her published writing on her website: https://trishbroome.com.