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“My husband’s name? Larry. Specialist Larry Gallardo,” she whispered. “I’m Jenny, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jenny. My name’s Gabrielle Gibeon. Uhm, I’d come over to you but my eyesight’s none too good so I tend to stick to the pavement. When did Larry, that is, how long has Larry been here?”

“Not quite two months. Remember that god awful day back in April when it hit ninety? April tenth? That’s when they buried him. It must have been hot for the honor guard in those dark uniforms.” Jenny walked to the roads edge and asked, “Is your brother close by?”

“He’s just down Jessup here and then right off the Dewey Drive circle. It’s so nice out today, would you like to go for a little walk?”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude!”

“No intrusion. You can be my eyes. My husband usually comes with me but he wasn’t feeling up to it today.”

“Your eyes? You mean you can’t see?”

“Not much and nothing in the center. I have a little peripheral left but it’s pretty frustrating,” she answered as they started down the road. “Are there flags everywhere?”

“Yes! I didn’t know they did that! I’ve managed to get up here every week but this is our first Memorial Day. I have to admit I never came here before Larry. Shameful, isn’t it?”

“Pretty typical. The war is always somebody else’s until it’s not. Where do you live?”

“I’m staying in Manassas right now. Larry’s parents. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. How about you?”

“Me? I’m up in Gaithersburg, right by the Shady Grove METRO.”

“Is that in Maryland? I’m not from around here originally.”

“Yes. Right now it’s the end of the line. Probably about as far as Manassas but north west instead of south west. Can you see the Coast Guard Memorial from here?”