Family members plant flowers, trim grass, pull a few weeds, decorate graves of loved ones.
One time Mary and I scrubbed lichen off the granite with our toothbrushes. I saw a watering can hang from a spigot, a metal pipe in the ground. Boy Scouts place American flags by white stone veterans’ graves.
I remember when Bill played taps and as the clear notes sounded, the wind kicked up, blew swirls of dust and leaves, the sky got dark. And we all felt a shivering chill.
Each helmet bears a soldier’s name.