She stands alone in the crowd, white hair, white hat, gold star, and a tear.

The great black granite wall reflects her white dress. Between the names, your names, her name, she sees you as you were.

Sons and daughters of our pride, and love, gone off to war.

In her tears I see the pain she bears in your memory.

The tears melt the years and she sees your face, proud and strong, certain of the future as only the young can be and she remembers; Your smile.

The brave laugh you gave when she said, "Be careful."

She remembers the proud refusal of the fear you held in that parting. She feels anew the pain in the place of crosses where she watched as they laid your shattered body to rest among the bones of your father's comrades and your generations sacrifice.

In her hand she clutches the medal that you earned with your blood. She tries to think of those you saved and tries not to blame them.