My eyes grow weary as I stand before the stone. I have visited it many times before.

The visits don't come easier as time passes by, only knowing what lies before me, to know what he had done for his country and fellow man.

I remember the years before. Days of playing catch out in open fields near our home, each having to run farther as we tried to best or outdo each and every throw.

The hours we would spent together, casting our lines into the water with the hope of catching an elusive white whale once spring returned from a cold hard winter. Listening to tales of Moby Dick created over the winter sitting next to a cozy fire, our imaginations running wild as each tried to outdo the other, the telling of tales that grew longer and more elaborate as those winter days passed by. Not that the our whale could have fit our small stream, it was just the idea of being together, enjoying each others company that helped us pass the cold winter months. And once spring came, we learned to ignore the misquotes and ants that would eventually invade our territory as we cast our lines out smiling or laughing as we just enjoyed the day, him an I.

The years seemed to pass by quickly our love for each other continued to grow. Then one day the letter came. The letter that would begin the grief I would have to bare. A letter that everyone had dread and like those around us he would be sent away. And like those that were taken away he too vowed to write. But the distance was so far, the miles separating us, oceans apart.

At first there were those that came from where he trained only to have them censored for fear of giving out to much information. The letters were of encouragement, of hope and prayer as he was given task after task. I read in wonder of a person so slim and grace, his physique not like that of the others sent out to war.

And as I stood before the stone a soft wind blew, my skirt ruffled gently in the wind as the tears began to flow once more. He was a kind and gentle soul and I prayed that he hadn't suffered that day in their hands. For none could tell me exactly what had happened. Only he gave his life as they had parachuted over enemy lines, trying to make their through rough an unfamiliar terrain. Their aircraft having taken heavy damage while flying in formation. They talked of how noble and brave he was given that he could barely manage to handle the weapons they had taught him to use.

They told of the risk he took for his comrades as they made their way over open fields avoiding patrols and villages, only to find their way of escape blocked by a wide river. Their only means of passage over a heavily fortified bridge. There was no way for them to turn back and no way to move forward. They said it was his idea as they traversed the banks of the river to find an abandoned farmhouse. At first they laughed at him as he changed out of his uniform. They saw the determination in his eyes for he had been thought too delicate and fragile. It was when he slipped on the dress, their laughter stopped, for he had developed a plan. And as they watched, the man became a woman who slipped a weapon within her dress, they understood the risk he was taking.

So they made their way once more, to their only avenue of escape. He ordered them to stay behind else they cause to much of a distraction. His comrades said they watched in amazement as his posture changed as well as his mannerism. To take on the role of one so feminine and demure. And as they stood behind hidden, they waited as he took the lead and began to swoon one of the lone guards nearby. To draw his attention to him. Soon another approached and in what seemed like hours, yet several minutes, a team member knew what to do as her son signaled them. They crept their way closer to their foe and then an enemy was lost for their cause. And so it went, slowly, each knew their given role as they worked their way closer to the bridge, to continue their journey for freedom across.

One could not imagine the courage he displayed, placing himself in harms way for them. Each recollecting their teasing an demeaning of him. Now they were dependent upon him as the airmen worked their way across. None dared to breathe to loud for fear of alerting others to their location as they managed to make their way over to the bride. None could have imagined themselves taking such a lead role as enemy soldiers lost their lives to one who seemed so meek and small. To help his team work their way towards freedom for their way of treating one of their own.

And as they passed him near the middle, they stopped when they heard the sound of weapons fire from behind. For he had signaled them to move forward. At first they had resisted only to see his persistent gestures. It was then they learned of their folly to believe he had tricked them for each knew he had a score to settle with each. Now halfway across the bridge their way was barred by heavy fortifications.

They told me of their shame later in thinking he would willfully betray them for revenge for their treatment. And as they stood unsure of their next move, the sound of enemy fire grew closer as well as the sound of an engine roar.

A few who dared to look from their hiding saw a vehicle race towards them only to streak pass them as it headed towards the fortified barricade.

Even in the dark of night and only with running lights on for fear of alerting the enemy of his location they watched in awe when search lights were focused upon him, a dead giveaway to his location. He sped forward towards his objective even with the sounds of bullets piercing his vehicle.

Each knew then their chance of survival had now increased due to his valiant act. They felt more than saw the explosion when they leaped into the cold water below, to make their way to the other shore allowing them to continue on without him, their passage assured due to his act.

And so I stand over an empty marker knowing that it will never be filled for there was none to bring him home. And once more I am reminded of the sacrifice my child has made to defend those against tyranny as I lay the flowers to commemorate the sacrifice by not just him but all those lives lost forever.

So I will travel home again, alone, to imagine my little boy walking by my side once more, forever gone, wanting to hear the tales of a father lost, who also sacrificed his life for his country many years before. I will forever cherish those fleeting moments of love. And so I will once more enter his room, to retrieve a favorite toy or animal, holding it dear to my breast and relive the memories of when he had been able to be who he was meant to be. I will always miss my beloved son and yet my loss is more than double for not only had I lost my son but a daughter also. For it was during those cold winter months that came, she would emerge to share those lonely days. To snuggle close to me in dress and lace, her hair to tease, for not only was I need as a mother to but a father. So I will remember my son and my daughter once more as the lonely winter months approach to help me make it through once more.