Lone eagle

The tapestry of their life had been rich beyond compare."

"Only Kate and her children had gone to the cemetery. Kate had wanted to be there with them alone, and with her memories of Joe. Because of the explosion, they were burying an empty casket. It was a final gesture of respect, as a minister said a brief blessing and then left. And in kindness to her, Stephanie and Reed walked back to the limousine and left her alone.

“How am I going to do this, Joe?” she whispered as she stood looking at the casket. Where would she go? How would she live without seeing him again? It was like being a child again when they had buried her father, and she could feel ancient wounds coming to life again.

She stood there for a long time, thinking about Joe, and then it was as though she could sense him standing next to her. He was the man she had always dreamed of, the hero she had fallen in love with when she was barely more than a girl, the man she had waited to come home from the war, the man she had nearly lost and then found again, by miracle, seventeen years before. There had been a lot of miracles in their life together, and he had been the best of them. And she knew, as she stood there, that he had taken her heart with him. There would never be anyone in her life like Joe. He had taught her all of life's important lessons, healed all her wounds, as she had healed his. He had touched deep into her soul. He had taught her not only about love, but about freedom. He had taught her about letting go. When she loved him most, she had set him free, and eventually he had always come home.

She knew as she stood there that this was his final freedom, his last flight away from her. She had to let him go again. And in doing so, he would never leave her, just as he really hadn't left her before. He had come home to her, flown away, and come back again. And even when he was gone, he loved her, just as he loved her now, and she loved him. It had become a love that was strong and sure, and needed no promises or words.

It just was.

She had learned the dance steps almost to perfection finally. She had learned just how to do it for him. How to stand back. How to let him be. How to love him. How to let him come and go, and appreciate him for all he was. She was so grateful for all that she had learned from him.

“Fly, my darling,” she whispered…. “Fly…. I love you…,” she said as she took a single white rose and laid it on the casket they would bury in his name.