The funeral was today for my friend Tress's father. He died at 80. The ceremony in Ipswich was brief, then we adjourned to the cemetery.
I teared up when a naval officer played Taps. It was so solemn, and the folding of the flag so deliberate and slow. The officer spoke to Tress's older sister as he handed her the folded flag, saying solemnly that thanks were offered the family "on behalf of the president of the United States" for Frederick Ricker's service to his country.
It is now difficult to put on another hat and go to work, but go I must.