Almost there, but I had to halt my charge up Sawyer Street’s killer hill, and clinging to my Rollator walker, I had to catch my breath and get a drink of water.

I had mixed feelings about this trip. I would be crushed if they weren’t there.

“You can’t stand here all day.”

“All right!”

I grabbed my buggy and, head down, turtle-like, I pushed to the top of the hill. The cemetery lay before me in all its pastel spring beauty.

The flags! The flags were there!

I walked a few steps and right in front of me was Tom’s flag flying over him. The slim staff was driven in straight and tall. The flag seemed larger and stronger this year with more snap against the mini-squalls that swirled among the headstones.

All that red, white and blue! Flags for all times and all ages.

My heart and mind were drowning in emotions and I could only gasp. “Oh, Tom. They did come. Thank you, God.”

Thanks to you too, the faithful who have, each year, gathered in South Portland to search Mount Pleasant Cemetery, corner to corner to corner, for those who so honored us with their lives dedicated to giving.

Oh, you kind and thoughtful people who did not forget, or retreat, especially during this chaotic stretch.

Please be aware of the hundreds of loved ones, families and friends whose hearts you have lifted.

Marlee Hill

South Portland