My Memorial Day wish

I hope I see her again this year.

Really, I would hardly recognize her. I only saw her bouncing blond ponytail for a few minutes last Memorial Day in the cemetery. She could have gotten a hair cut, for all I know, or experienced the kind of growth spurt that propels her beyond a "little" girl. 

If I recognize her at all it will be by her handiwork.

I hope her parents bring her to the cemetery again to honor loved ones who have gone before. I hope, for her sake, that the names on the family stones she helps decorate are generations removed, that even as she forges a connection by learning the stories of their lives, it won't be with a pang of loss. 

I hope, that while the grownups are visiting, she will again skip toward the ancient lilac bushes on the cemetery grounds and pluck stem after stem to place on all the barren stones, so that no one is forgotten.

Then I'll smile to know she's been there. And as I search for a blond ponytail I'll pledge to do what I can -- no matter how small -- to ease the loneliness of others around me.