Remembrance Day.

At the age of 103, he didn't have the energy or good health to do much. He lived with his daughter, who was 72. Her husband had died a few years ago, but they had 3 children who were now all grown up. 

It was the beginning of November and Autumn was in full swing. Some days the sun would shine and it'd be surprisingly mild. On these days, Brenda would take her dad out in his wheelchair for a walk around the quaint village they lived in. Sometimes they'd go further afield if one of her sons was there to help.

Alfred always looked forward to Remembrance Sunday, as it was a way of remembering the brave souls who fought for their country and sadly died. He'd known many to lose their lives, good friends who he missed very much. 

On remembrance Sunday, the local church had a service planned, just before 11am. That morning, Brenda had got her dad ready for the trip out. It was a cloudy, overcast day with a little rain. The church, thankfully, wasn't too far from where they lived. The plan was to push him there in the wheelchair, with weather permitting, of course.

She knew a good crowd always turned up, as they did every year. The moment her dad saw this, a smile would appear on his face, realising how many still cared.

Dead on 10.20am, they left the house for the short stroll there. Alfred preferred to get there early. At the church gates, at least fifty people had turned up. 

A tear left Alfred's eye. "Look at all these wonderful souls. It means the world to me that they still come. This day should never be forgotten. In all my days I've never felt so emotional."

Brenda felt tearful as well, as he always said this every year before the service. "It's lovely, dad. Really lovely," she answered. She pushed him across the road to the gates, then waited for it to begin. Like usual, the Cubs, Scouts and the Cadets marched past the crowd, which now had grown considerably in size. Alfred clapped his hands at the proceedings.

At 11am there was a minutes silence followed by the lady reverend giving a speech and some bouquets being placed at the bottom of the remembrance statue. Brenda peered at her dad and felt so proud. He looked overjoyed, knowing everything his comrades had gone through deserved this day to be honoured by a nation. 

After a while, the crowd had left. The road which had been temporarily closed had now reopened as the odd car made its way through the village. Everything had gone back to normal.

Alfred looked up at his daughter, then said, "I'm not sure if I'm going to be here next year, my darling. So could I ask a favour?" 

Brenda smiled at her beloved father. "Of course, dad. What would you like?"

"Could you take me to the statue across the road so I can say a little prayer to the friends that I lost in the war? It means a lot to me, you see," he said emotionally.

She pushed him to the statue and the elderly man sat there with his eyes closed and his hands together while he thanked his comrades for their courage and how he missed them with all his heart. And how they'd never be forgotten by him. 

A while later, it started to rain.

"Are you ready yet, dad?" asked Brenda.

"Yes, dear." he answered.

"I love you, dad," she said.

"I know you do, dear. And I love you too," was all he replied.

Both then made the journey home.

........................ 

    At the end of the Remembrance service the next year, after everyone had left, Brenda stood on her own and thought back to her dad. She felt tearful. The last conversation they'd had was when Alfred had thanked her for pushing him to the statue so he could say a little prayer to his friends. Brenda then told him how much she loved him and this meant the world to her, as she felt it was important to let him know that. 

"I miss you, dad," she said. 

Across the road near to the statue was a young man she found familiar. Standing with him were other men of a similar age. He looked her way and smiled. 

"Bye, daddy," was all she said.

A second later, they'd vanished. That is when she knew he was with his friends again after so long.


The End.