G.A.R.

I saw you today, in a crowd. I glanced to my right, and it seemed there you were, one aisle over and two rows up. On second glance, it wasn't you. But then, I knew it already. He was younger than you were when we met. He was sitting next to a young man I took to be his significant other. But the shade of his hair, a grey sort of like aluminum, the shape of his head, the set of his shoulders, they all made me think of you.

For that briefest of moments, I could almost imagine myself running over behind him and hugging him, and saying, "I've been waiting to see you! I've got so much to tell you. You have to meet MyFella and Jamie. You have to hear about . . ."

But it wasn't you. I said goodbye to you, several years ago now, in Nashville.

But today, I find myself holding back tears all over again. I'm not doing so good a job of it, honestly. Between thoughts of you and the powerful music during the church service, I admit a tear came down. And another fights with me now as I write this.

What was it you said? "But I AM an old queen!" And you were my Great Aunt Ray.