Writing for Fun
March 2015
The Reunion - Gerry Miller
And she had never thought that she would come back at all especially not like this. She felt so cold and devoid of all feelings and emotions. Though of course she could sense how the situation was affecting the others. Her sisters had always been a mixed bag and were most formidable when united in a common cause. But for her the distance that grew up between them, following her emigration to America, now helped to focus her understanding of them.
It was a strange reunion that had all been instigated by Sara the baby of the family, mind you now at fifty she did not look too different to the other girls. Sara had led the crusade and was the complete force of will to ensure that she came home. So there she was succumbing as usual to their formidable wills, she was alone in sensing the vibrations of the plan. The girls' moving mouths and laughter seemed a distant murmuring above the engine noise. The noise changed and she knew that they were approaching Dublin airport below would be the Irish Sea and Dun Laoighaire.
It was only a short drive to her parent's home by Lough Rea. The sisters had settled their differences after all apparently arguing as the best way to achieve her return, finally sharing many a laugh about it. Even she could see the funny side of it. The girls had swept through the airport checks moving places, laughing and joking. The staff could not tell what bags or tickets belonged to whom and they zipped through customs. They had all been convinced that to go through all the legal bits and pieces would cost a fortune and take years, even if permission was then to be granted.
They had been tender, thoughtful and also careful, it would not do to go to all this trouble and have a disaster. She could see both the humour and sadness in their eyes and finally accepted that they had been right. She was to return to her roots, but she had not liked leaving her own family. Yet always being the sensible one they had known acquiescence would follow their vigorous campaign and so it did.
The following day they all arrived at the jetty where her father had always kept his boat, and on they all shoved and jostled. They went out into the Lough and stopped the boat. They opened the large Kimberley biscuit tin and there she was, all of her ashes swirling in the wind and blowing across the water. One last look at the girls, then nothingness.