At my husband’s funeral, I spotted “my girls.” Once inseparable, at that moment, we seemed to be strangers in our golden years. As we reunited over regrets and lost time, one reckless idea left us questioning everything.
The funeral was quiet. Just a few people stood by, exchanging whispers. I stood apart, clutching my husband’s old hat. It was all I had left of him, of us. The murmurs of condolences drifted past me, barely registering.“You should come inside,” someone whispered, but I didn’t moveMy mind replayed all the plans we’d postponed. Our last trip to the ocean, the dreams we shelved for later. Later he was gone.
“Is that… Nora?”
My voice caught in my throat as I spotted a familiar figure at the edge of the group. She looked unsure, holding her handbag tightly, like a shield. Before I could gather myself, another familiar face appeared.“Lorna?” I whispered, almost laughing in disbelief.
She stood confidently, her bright scarf and glasses a splash of life against the somber crowd. It was like seeing a ghost of my youth, but her eyes held the weight of years gone by.
“My girls…”
Later, we found ourselves crammed into a small café.
“This feels surreal,” Nora admitted, stirring her tea. “How long has it been since we’ve all been together?”
“Too long,” Lorna answered. “And for this to be the reason… It’s unfair.”
I nodded. “I spent the last years taking care of him. Everything else just… stopped.”
“What now?” Nora asked gently.
“His last wish was to see the ocean again. I didn’t make it happen while he was here. But I will now.”“I don’t even know what my own wishes are anymore,” Nora confessed. “My family… I don’t think they’ve ever seen me as more than a housekeeper. I changed the Thanksgiving turkey recipe last year, and it was a scandal. A turkey scandal.”next page…
