Annie sat on the bench staring out at the sea. The orange glow of the setting sun lighting up the dark sky, framing the islands with an inky shadow. Everything was still, even the waves had slowed down to a gentle hush as they kissed the rocks below. It was one of those perfect November nights. Cold, not a breath of wind with only the sound of the sea birds to break the hush. Annie loved the silence of her bench. In the last few days all she heard was the chatter of pitying voices, the clink of another healing cup of tea, the drone of the funereal prayers and hymns, this was a brief moment of calm and peace. The colours changed again as the sea started to swallow the sun, orange became a deep pink then red. Annie had loved red but lately it had come to signify so much sorrow. The red cross on the Nurses uniform, the spot of blood on the returned effects, the letter heading on the we are sorry to inform you note and then the red roses her mother in law insisted should be at the funeral. Red, so long the colour of Tom’s hankies, her favourite party dress and young Thomas’s fire engine that he always left at the top of the stairs.
A car horn beeped in the distance stirring Annie from her bench. She slowly stood up, eyes still fixed on the horizon. Scarf tightly tied around her head, gloves on, she began the long walk home across the fields. This walk had become her solace, the only time when the bells all stopped and the mourning ceased but the path from the cliff edge was bumpy and she stumbled a few times as she made her way to the gate. The gate ! The gate where she first met Tom 10 years ago, the gate where Tom asked her to marry him! Suddenly the overwhelming feeling of grief, loss and anger filled every bone in her body and she turned to lean against the gate for support, staring once more through her tears out to the sunset. Then there was Tom’s voice, the voice she had last heard five weeks ago at the docks as he wiped the tears from her cheeks. She spun round sure he was there but no, just his voice, just a memory and words in her head …
“Just remember lass, no matter what happens I’ll still be there in the sunrise and the sunset at our gate, I will be there”
Annie started down at the red hankie she had been clutching in her hand and gazing back at the horizon, she said goodnight to Tom, smiled and began the walk home again.
Red no longer a colour of sorrow but of remembrance and hope of a new sunrise and a new day.
In the rising of the sun and in its going down,
we remember them.
In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter,
we remember them.
In the opening of buds and in the rebirth of spring,
we remember them.
In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of summer,
we remember them.
In the rustling of leaves and in the beauty of autumn,
we remember them.
In the beginning of the year and when it ends,
we remember them.
When we are weary and in need of strength,
we remember them.
When we are lost and sick at heart,
we remember them.
When we have joys we yearn to share,
we remember them.
So long as we live, they too shall live, for they are now a part of us,
as we remember them.
