by Trish Little

Created on: May 10, 2008

FAMILY LOST AND FOUND

Trudy watched in awe while the two elderly women behaved like schoolgirls at a fun park. One would have thought they had won lotto, and perhaps they had.

Their excitement at finding one another after more than fifty years was palpable. The way they screeched with delight with smiles that stretched their faces to the limit; the way they spoke no more than six words before spontaneously hugging each other time after time; and the way the tears ran freely, unashamedly and unchecked down each of their lined faces. Trudy couldn't help but feel she was the intruder rather than the organizer of this reunion, and she had to keep swallowing the lump that insisted on blocking her throat.

As they laughed when sharing the fun times, and cried when remembering sad and hard times, Trudy began to see the women, particularly her mother, in a totally different light. It had never occurred to her to ask about her mother's childhood, and details were never voluntarily divulged, so until this moment all she had been aware of was that her mother's parents had died and that she had one sister with whom she had lost contact over five decades earlier. Circumstances had separated them as children, and as Trudy listened, they painted a word picture of great sadness and loss, of tragedy and hardship. Each remembered with great clarity the last time they had seen one another. At their parents' funeral.

"Sis, have you ever been back to the cemetery?" her aunt asked.

Trudy's mother shook her head, the tears welling up once again.

"Would you like to go?"

"Please," was the only reply she could manage.
It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but one which would affect and change Trudy's outlook on life for all time.

The boat trip to the island where the women had lived as small children, was stunning. The beautiful sun bleached beaches visible only from a boat. The shimmering clear ice-blue waters of the bay. The clear blue skies with fluffy white clouds dotted sporadically, and the gentle and warm northerly breeze. The total picture was one of serenity and tranquility.

Her mother and aunt held hands as they approached the gate of the cemetery. Again the lump in Trudy's throat fought for occupancy as she imagined what they may have looked like on the day their parents had been buried.

Trudy was surprised as her aunt led them to an area where there were no headstones. As they proceeded along the path, her aunt softly whispered,

"Sis, do you remember where Mum and Dad are?"

Stunned,

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