The sight took Nicole’s breath away. Although it was the first time she’d set eyes on the rows of speckled white, the feeling that rose up in her chest stopped short of taking her breath away.

There was, she couldn’t quite put words to it, but it was a sense of familiarity. The order and symmetry both a work of art and mystery.

For as you took another step or two- or three, four big ones.

What a place for her daughter to take her first steps! That’s what those four steps were…

“Oh, Blake! Good girl,” she called out, half choking on the last word remembering where they were.

Nicole bent down to kneel in the lush green carpet where the 11-month-old had tipped over. Her brilliant blue eyes reflecting the happy pride in her mother’s.

As she wrapped one arm around Blake, quietly congratulating her once more, Nicole held her other hand out sensing the baby girl wanted to try again.

“Uncle Blake,” she tipped her eyes to the cloudy sky, “I wish you could’ve met your namesake. I wish you could have…”

Her voice trailed as the Blake in front of her toppled sideways again.

Swooping her baby into her arms she nuzzled her close, breathing in the strawberry scent of shampoo in Blake’s soft cinnamon brown hair.

Kissing her on the cheek, Nicole whispered into her daughter’s ear, “I’m so proud of you, little sailor?”

A tear swelled up and escaped the corner or her eye.

Little sailor, that’s what her Uncle - the closest thing she’d ever have to a father - had called her. It was his way of telling her to be brave, to stand tall when things get tough, and to keep your gaze fixed forward.

Uncle Blake had also taught her that only the heart is wise enough to understand the vision of the path already traveled.

Wasn’t that the mystery? How things can seem so ordered and intricately planned, but one half twist and that vision seems so shattered.

A swift breeze rustled the flags. The wave of red, white and blue a welcome distraction from the stoic gray-white of the tombstones.

Nicole blinked and the precision of the rows came into focus as the gentle hill of cornrows she and her Uncle Blake would play hide and seek in under a hazy late summer sun.

Blake’s chubby hand brushed her mother’s cheek, beckoning Nicole back to the present. She felt the heat flushing upwards before she even saw what the baby was reaching for.

Another half twist on one heel as Nicole wiped the moisture towards her hairline and she saw the distraction.

A man waving a small flag, his arm outstretched towards the baby inviting her to take it, like a runner passing a baton, intent more on the exchange than making a personal connection.

Her uncle’s voice echoed, “It’s not the uniform that makes the sailor a hero, my dear.”

This wasn’t just any man. He was a Marine. She knew by the uniform - her uncle’s Navy dress uniform was also blue, but a Marine had the white belted waist and the broad white hat that looked almost like a halo.

At least that’s what she thought as a girl seeing the photo of her dad. Maybe it was because her father’s picture hung next the Blessed Virgin’s with her white painted halo, a similar bright circle behind the head of Jesus, too, who hung at Major Benson’s side.

“Hero or not,” Nicole’s voice coyly spoke in her mind, “there is something about a man in a uniform.”

Nicole smiled politely, not sure if the stranger’s silence was comfortable or unnerving.

“Happy Memorial Day, belated I mean, if that’s a thing,” she awkwardly offered. “And thank you for your service.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, “and to you, too, little miss,” he added nervously waving the flag towards Blake.

Blake lit up and the man gestured questioningly, yet again waving the small American flag.

“Is it, okay?” He asked Nicole but she could feel a slight annoyance that he was almost ignoring her and mainly addressing her daughter.

“Men! Uniform or not, they’re all so thick-skulled,” she murmured to herself.

“Sure,” she paused and hiked Blake back up securely on her right hip.

“I didn’t have time to pick one up- we came straight from the airport…”

“Well then,” he finally looked at her directly, intently, “I guess it was meant to be.”

“You look like you’ve got your hands full,” he added and she could see a slight exhale. Was her nervous talking to her? Was he just trying to be polite?

She felt her own brow relax, “Yes, yes, I do.”

Why was she being so curt with her comments? Why was she so immediately defensive when it came to men?? Hell, he probably was just being nice, I mean why wouldn’t he assume she was married, right?

“We were just trying to find a grave when my daughter took her first steps. She was so pleased with herself and then must’ve seen you. I wasn’t even paying attention- I mean, I was watching her, of course, but my thoughts were…” Why did she feel she owed him an explanation?

“No worries,” the marine said actually reaching out to brush her elbow reassuringly.

“I’d noticed your daughter and watched those steps. In fact, I didn’t realize I was applauding her until I saw the smile on her face when she noticed me.” He repeated the air clapping motion to Blake’s delight.

“Sorry if it seems like I’m stalking you here,” he continued, recoiling a bit at Nicole’s furrowing look. “It’s just that I have a niece about the same age…

He trailed off, “and you know, I haven’t even met her yet.

“Just returning from a mission of sorts- I was,” now he seemed to pause realizing he was sharing with this random woman.

“I’m headed home but wanted to visit a friend passing through.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Nicole rigidly said. Blake was starting to squirm and clearly wanted down.

“The uncle I’m here to visit never met his niece either,” she said and clarified, “grand niece.”

She didn’t wait for a response noticing the butterflies in her stomach in response to how attentive this stranger was being to her daughter, at the same time sensing how irrational her irritation was at the presence of this man.

Blake’s own father had never even seen his daughter or showed any sense of responsibility, no remorse…

“Well, I don’t mind accompanying you,” he . “I could use the distraction, and looks like you could use the extra hand.”