Coming Home

Every afternoon at 3.30, she would be there. Waiting.
Mums and dads rushed about her, parking cars to stand at the school gates.
She would be there, in all weathers, on the corner, waiting.

No one knew who she was or why she was there. She was simply the smartly dressed old lady who'd stood in the same spot at school closing times as long as anybody could remember. She never spoke, and no one spoke to her.
At best, a simple nod and the odd 'Hello '.
Many of the people collecting their children had attended the same school. They knew her. She was there then, in much the same way as she was now. She was part of the fabric, a piece of scenery.

No one remembered the young mum that stood on that corner in June of 1963. Anticipating her own little one to burst through the school gate with enough energy to drive a train. He never came. She just waited.

Her husband had to take her home that day. Sat her in a chair and reiterated the story others had been trying to tell her all afternoon.
"George had an accident. Ran out, in front of a truck and died at the hospital."
Refusing to go to the hospital, she didn't believe them.
She didn't believe him, she was angry, insisting he would be home.

Years passed.

Her husband, in frustration and unrequited grief, left home. She would still be there, at the corner of the road every afternoon, waiting.

Rooms in her house were as they were that day. His bedroom, as it was when he was last there. She would clean dinky cars on the floor where he last played, then return them exactly, to pre-marked spaces. His bedding laundered and changed in anticipation. She refused to grieve; hope sprang eternal.

Her parents died in anguish. Their daughter's futile optimism, overwhelming.

But she was positive, convinced that everything would be back to normal. Someday.

There were no friends now. Her reaction proved to be more than they could handle. Too eccentric.
Support for her husband served to alienate them. Neighbours moved on.

All that remained was the new mums and dads collecting kids from school. Everyone seemed to drive cars now; In her day, they would walk to school, children by their sides.

The afternoon she wasn't there, even children remarked, no one knew.

The busy 'School Run' continued unabated. Comments about the missing old lady ceased within a week.

In the lounge of her home, motionless, a smile expressed relief.

"He's home, managed to come home on his own, such a clever boy!"

News of her demise spread via social media.
Mum's, dads and students, going back almost 60 years recalled her in passing conversation.

A space she'd never visited became her home; alongside her beloved George.

A Single mourner. A father and husband whose grief was exhausted by long hours of toil, providing for his estranged family. They were at peace, he could be content.

He left the graveside, wearing a smile.

"Home at last."