Playing ‘Taps’ for my mother
Isaw them making their way on the sidewalk up to the pavilion. They walked with purpose, shoulders squared, backs straight, heads held high. They looked young enough to be my grandchildren, these two Marines. They shook my hand and called me “Ma’am.”
They were here to pay honor to my mother, who served her country during WWII as a Marine. She passed away on Feb. 6 of this year at the age of 95.
I was here in Tennessee for our annual Emert Family Reunion. The first person I saw was my Uncle Bill. He had on an orange plaid shirt for his beloved Tennessee Volunteers. This wonderful man, who was young when I first remember him some 65 years ago, is the last surviving child of the 11 children of George and Bessie Lucinda Maples Emert. They all grew up in the foothills of the Great Smokey Mountains.
He is getting frail now and it hurts my heart. His sweet wife, my Aunt Loeta, is also frailer. I remember the first time I met her when she was so young and just the prettiest girl. I was little and I remember I loved her long hair and soft voice.
Uncle Bill has been in charge of the family reunions for some time. The presence of the young Marines and why they were there brought a light to his eyes and a smile on his lips. He himself felt honored they were there. When I hugged him, I noticed how thin he was, but I didn’t mention it. This man has been so dear to me for so very many years.
The Marines shook hands with my brother Stan who came in for this reunion. He hasn’t been to many reunions in his adult years, but this one was special. His wife Monica and their daughter Abigail were there with him as were his other two children, Katherine and Brandon, as well as Brandon’s wife, Shakira.
I adore this family. My brother told me it was so good to have all three of his children together. Life has a way of pulling us apart, but on this occasion, it brought us together.
The plan was that Stan and I would say a few words about Mom before the Marines honored her. When I started to speak, and mind you, I was speaking to family members whom I had known just about all my life, I became choked up. I couldn’t speak. My brother stepped in and told a funny story about Mom. He told about a croquet game between Mom and Dad.
Daddy usually won these games, but this time Mom was beating him soundly. He was not happy. Mom was laughing at each shot and she didn’t miss sending that wooden ball through the wire arches. When it came Daddy’s turn, he looked at
her with one of those looks he used to give her when he’d had just about enough and hit that ball with his mallet as hard as he could and sending it all the way across the yard. Mom just had fits of laughter and Daddy finally laughed, too. This is how they were for almost 67 years.
Stan’s words made me relax so that I could tell the story of how she ran into the French commandant’s car when we lived in Morocco. It was her fault. She passed the little foreign military car and pulled in too quickly. It was not a bad wreck, but the commandant’s driver was jumping up and down and speaking French. The commandant patted me on the head and I stuck my tongue out at him. I usually didn’t do that.
Before too long a whole bunch of military motorcycles came roaring in and surrounded us. They were members of the French Army. A little later, an American military car pulled up and Daddy got out. He walked up to Mom and asked in a calm, quiet voice, “My God, honey, what did you do this time?” He always swears that we were deported from Morocco, but that wasn’t true.
When it came time to honor Mom, one young Marine walked away and stood alone while the other stood closer. The Marine farthest away brought a bugle to his lips and played the most perfect rendition of “Taps” I had ever heard. I closed my eyes and listened.
After “Taps,” both Marines folded an American flag and presented it to me. This was a most moving ceremony. Once the flag was presented, they slowly marched away and left the area.
So “Taps” was played for my mother. Her book of life is closed. She was so proud to serve her country in the Marines during WWII.
You did your time. You stayed the course. Rest easy now, Mom.