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I wandered through the lawn. All the stones are identical, but I know where his is. I don't even stop to read before I fall to my knees in front of it. My keys fall uselessly to the grass as my hands go limp in my lap. I don't even want to look up, but I do. Frail arms lift my trembling hands, and I stroke the engraving with my fingertips as my eyes blur the words before me. "I miss you," I croaked breathlessly. I miss him more than words can say.
I blinked and saw the procession; his casket blanketed by the American flag, men in uniforms that had served alongside my brother but met a better fate. I blinked and saw the uniformed men at our front door, giving me a letter in his place. My mother stumbled to the couch, hand over her mouth as I stood in disbelief, wishing it was a dream. I blinked and was sitting on the floor in my bedroom, back against my bed, reading one of his letters from the shoe box I kept under my bed. The last letter he ever sent me. There it was, clear as day, the promise he made to me that he didn't know he wouldn't be able to keep. I love you. I'll see you soon.
I curled up against the grass by his tombstone, pressing my face against the cold ground, my fingers digging into the dirt in an attempt to get closer to him. I let my eyes flutter closed as memories of him danced before me. His arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me close to him. The both of us wrestling over a candy bar in the living room. In the airport, when he kissed my forehead and I waved as he walked away, not knowing it was goodbye for good.
My fingers brushed the base of the cold stone as tears formed a pool beneath me. I'll see you again someday.
