I watched through my peripheral vision.

It's something that I learned to do in the military.

I learned to stand at attention and look straight forward, but still see what's going on

around me.

And I could see.

I could see the honor guard take the flag off of this coffin.

Their sharp uniforms, their white gloves.

I watched their crisp, well-rehearsed movements as they went through their procedures.

Without shifting my eyes, I focused back on his coffin.

I was still trying to process it all, so much emotion, so much joy, so much sorrow, so much

light and laughter and love, so much life.

All now boxed up and silent in that wooden casket.

Gone.

The honor guard continued with their predetermined movements.

One fold at a time, precise hands moving like craftsmen.

As they carry on, the red and white stripes of the flag are consumed by the blue field

with its white stars.

The flag is finally folded into a neat, thick triangle.

The leader of the honor guard, a second-class petty officer, grasps the flag into his hands.

He executes a sharp facing movement, takes a step, and then executes another facing movement.

He's now looking directly at me.

Our eyes are locked, but expressionless.

...