November 29, 2008
Leeds, England
Mattie Rabb had been to only a few funerals in her time. Her mother's had been her first one she'd ever attended. It had been a few years before she attended, and frankly, if she hadn't been close friends with Susan she might not have gone to another one quite so soon. She'd known people her age that had died, in accidental or not so accidental death but because of distance, since she was now living in London with Harm and Mac she had not been able to go to any of the funerals.
She was about to go to another one, the neighbor down the street had died the other day. He'd served in the RAF, coming over to Britain before the war from Canada, had fell in love and stayed in his adopted country. She knew that daily many who had served during World War II were dying, that even the younger men who'd served were now in their mid eighties.
She'd gotten to know the man, even though he had been suffering from Alzheimer's for a few years, through the photographs and home movies his family had. She would have liked to have known him before that blasted disease had taken his wry wit away from his family and friends.
She wanted to attend his funeral, not just because she knew the man, she wanted to honor him for this service in protecting those who valued freedom. She hadn't grown up in a military family but her exposure to the military life since she had hired a tall, handsome, and old pilot., well to her he'd seemed old, had given her a greater appreciation of the sacrifices that veterans had made, for however long wars had been fought.
Mattie straightened her dress and went into the living room where Harm and Mac were waiting. They, too, were attending the funeral .
The endI write this in honor of my uncle who passed away on Monday, he was a corpsman during D-Day, and parts of the story I just wrote are his story. I will miss you.