Closure?

I guess sometimes in life you have to celebrate your birthday in a funeral home...

These last few days have been surreal to say the least. Attending the wake and burial of your best friend on your birthday can do some strange things to your head. It can be a very Yin/Yang, circle of life type thing but I'd rather I didn't have to experience it.

I woke up bright and early Monday morning, packed the car with our bags, and started the trip down to Arlington, VA. Again, as I was driving south, I found it rather easy to avoid thinking about why we were making the trip. Feeding Leah, making pit stops at the rest areas, and focusing on the directions kept me in somewhat of a "zone." Needless to say, the reality quickly hit me as we arrived at the hotel and I saw all of the military brass milling around, checking in, and saying hello to one another...I was here to witness my best friend's burial.

A wake was set up for Monday night and a formal burial at Arlington National Cemetery would take place the next morning. I had been telling people for weeks that I was actually looking forward to these events. I spoke of the closure they may bring and the beauty and pride these events can typically evoke. When I arrived at the hotel, however, I was quickly overwhelmed by the enormity of having to say goodbye to Carlos. I had to get out of that lobby. I told Bridget that I wanted to get upstairs immediately to start to prep for the wake that would take place in the next few hours. I'm sorry if I was a little snippy babe.

When we arrived at the funeral home and entered the room, I was somewhat disappointed that there was a closed casket. I was looking forward to seeing him one last time, however, after some thought, I realized that the closed casket was the appropriate choice. I sat down, looked around the room at all of the people in attendance, and felt proud that Carlos had such an audience. Friends, family, coworkers, military brothers and sisters, etc. It was really great catching up with old friends but not under these circumstances. Then my eyes made their way to the front of the room. That sleek coffin covered in our majestic American flag and the Honor Guard standing at his side...I was immediately overcome with grief and sadness. My best friend was in that box.

The next day didn't prove to be any easier. We woke up around 5:00 a.m. to feed Leah, got all of our stuff together, and drove over to the cemetery. I had been to Arlington National Cemetery a few times before. It's a beautiful place. This time, however, it seemed even more beautiful and I drove through those gates feeling somewhat proud that my best friend's body would be laid to rest in such majesty. We all gathered in a family room beneath the Administration building and when the time came, drove to the gravesite. We parked the car, put Leah in her stroller, and walked up a small hill to a clearing where a horse and carriage awaited Carlos. A band stood on the side and played beautifully as a group Honor Guardsmen carried Carlos' casket from the hearse to horse drawn carriage. We then proceded to follow the procession down to the actual gravesite.

Cue emotion.

When we reached the gravesite, Carlos' immediate family sat beside him while the rest of us stood nearby. A priest said a few words and then led the group in a closing prayer. The honor guard approached Carlos' casket and conducted the flag folding ceremony. Their precision is simply incredible. After the flag was folded, it was presented to Rebecca. 3 flags were then presented to each of Carlos' little girls. No little girl or boy should have to go through this. The final flag was presented to Carlos' mother, a woman who gave her heart and soul to support Carlos, but now finds herself broken and alone. If it hadn't hit already, this was where you truly realized that war is hell. When you read the paper about the soldiers who have lost their lives in war, it's easy to forget about the humanity is involved, everything eles outside of their life as a soldier. These men and women have families and friends that love them dearly and when war takes them from us, it is the gravest of tragedies. More on this at another time.

The ceremony continued with the 21 gun salute. Again, the precision with which this is executed is amazing. 7 guns firing at once, however, they sound as if they were only one. The pulse of each shot is jarring. Then, to mark the finality of the ceremony, "Taps" was played. As soon as I heard that bugle...well I don't know. I don't really know how to describe it. Pain. Anger. Sadness. Pride. I really don't know what else to say. The military took my best friend away from me, but to their credit, they gave him one hell of a send off.

I will miss you and love you forever brother.