‘Twas a blustery winter morn at the National Cemetery in Salisbury, North Carolina on January 28th, 2009, what would have been Warren Nelson’s eighty-fifth birthday. As family and friends gathered at the ceremony honoring Warren’s military service, and to mourn his passing three days earlier, Warren’s playful Spirit was determined to make his presence known. Convention would have it the wind caused the rose petals placed on Warren’s remains earlier in the service to rustle and scatter, but the family knew better; Warren’s Spirit was sending everyone a verifiable sign that all was well with him indeed in his new heavenly home. On that day for those few moments we knew the wind was Warren.
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