Humbled, she knelt by the monument as she had done most days of her life. A warm woollen scarf protected her head and face from the elements of the coast. It was always windy there but she never complained.
With her crippled arthritic fingers, she traced each letter of his name and the date that had been carved into the cold grey marble wall. Then she traced the letters of the two names below.
Her family name was carved into the stone for all eternity: her father and two uncles. She had not known any of them. She was born after they left for war. She could not understand how her grandmother had faced life after the loss of three sons. Her mother, a war widow had raised her on her own but now she was gone too.
At eight-five years old, Mabel knew life was closing in on her as well. Today was the first time she had thought, I have lived long enough. The news on the television was upsetting her and she couldn’t bear to think of becoming a fifty first state.
With the support of her walker, Mabel pulled herself up and looked back at the wall. As she stood, her eye caught the Canadian flag being battered about by the wind. With sadness she thought, life will never be the same.
Great story, but poor Mabel. She represents all of us. When and how will this madness end? I hope Mabel (that is we, that is the entire world) lives to see some common sense return south of the border.
ReplyDeleteThe times, they are achanging. Nice one Nancy.
ReplyDelete