Contemplations

"And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything."

~William Shakespeare

Yesterday, Dave was asked to preside over the graveside service for an inactive man from our ward, who had recently passed away. Because the service would be held at 2pm in Auburn, Benjamin and I offered to come along as HOV buddies. For those not from Seattle, the rush hour traffic is out-of-this-world awful.

The interment was held at Tahoma National Cemetery, a very large VA cemetery situated right smack dab in our own Bermuda Triangle of southeast king county, otherwise known as the middle of nowhere; I swear that without our navigation system, we would have been lunching with Amelia Earhart today. But, the drive was gorgeous as we headed up the Cedar River canyon on Highway 169 towards Maple Valley. The opposing hills looked they like were set afire, thanks to the blazing colors of the leaves. And we bopped along quite nicely, with competing sounds of our navigation lady’s semi-pleasant voice and the Fisher Price® Little People: 50 Sing-Along Classics cd. Plus, the sky was blue, the air was crisp and the sun was shining.

It was a beautiful autumn day for a funeral.

As we listened, sang and took in the beautiful scenery, we turned off the highway and wound our way up the south side of the canyon. After a lot of zigging & zagging, and ascending & descending, eventually we arrived at our destination point. Sweeping green lawns greeted us, with elderly folks dressed in austere military dress standing guard. They didn’t really look that menacing, but I’m sure in their day, they were a force with which to be reckoned.

Dave introduced himself to one of these cemetery officials, noting that he was the clergy representative for this gentleman’s service. The official quickly declared something to the effect that Dave would have very little speaking time and that, “the military takes precedence here”. When Dave told me that, I said, “Little do they know, God really takes precedence here!”… to which Dave said, “Oh, no – they are definitely in charge.” And he wasn’t kidding.

After everyone arrived, we were kept to 10 mph and passed by a line of saluting veterans. That nearly brought a tear to my eye because it made me realize the sacrifices that each of these people made, and they were due such solemn respect. The procession meandered for about a mile before coming to a tall wooden pavilion. Apparently, the cemetery does not allow mourners at the actual gravesite because it is considered a construction zone. So, everyone huddled under the pavilion while an honor guard stood at attention and a military servicewoman/chaplain performed the service. Dave got to introduce the family member that gave a prayer and dedicated the grave (remotely).

When we arrived, one of the elderly officials had pulled me aside as soon as I stepped from our car. He said they would be firing off shots, so I needed to cover Benjamin’s ears to protect them from damage. Initially, I thought it a bit silly, but then I quickly understood and appreciated the word of warning. The honor guard didn’t stand very far from the service, so when the flag was raised and the guns moved into firing position, I quickly clamped down on both sides of his head (he was not a fan of being held in such a way). I’m glad I did because when the 3-volley salute commenced, the sound was deafening – I would have covered my own ears, if my hands weren’t busy protecting Benjamin’s.

In the end, it was a nice service and the grounds were absolutely gorgeous that day. As we left the cemetery, with Mt. Rainier looming large in the distance, I was a bit surprised to feel the spirit so strongly, despite the lack of spirituality during the service. The experience made me grateful for life, for ordinances, for all of god’s creations, and for the Gospel.

(Photo courtesy of Tahoma National Cemetery)