Caught Up in Clouds
Glimpses of a melody, distant echoes of a song from somewhere far-off, began to appear as I stood at the graveside by my grandfather, accompanied by a salute of military cornet as we remembered him. Not words, after all, but music—the one means of harmonizing the grief, the fond reminiscence, the future hope. The tones that emerged recalled the parting words we gave to my father-in-law in memoriam: not "goodbye" but "see you later." |
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