It was late and Cora was exhausted. She loved seeing her daughters together but these annual September visits had been leaving her feeling more and more emotionally drained. It was lonely without Robert and the house was quieter now that Mary's kids were grown. She laid her robe on the chair and padded over to the big bed, contemplating the changes that the years had brought. The first September visit, the day of Robert's funeral had been noisy. Sad, but with grandchildren and community all paying their respects it had been a busy day, not a day of reflection. The crowd of grandchildren had grown over the next few years and then waned again as they got older and involved in their own lives. At least her girls all seemed happy now, that's all Cora had ever wanted for her family.
She snuggled under the covers quietly and reached to turn down the lights, something caught the corner of her eye. Robert, leaning against the doorway of his dressing room. Cora smiled. "It's been a long time," she said.
He made no move to come closer, although she wanted him to. When he spoke his voice was quiet, and sad. "My darling, it's time to go."
She nodded and understood, but patted the bed beside her. "Come lay with me one more time."
Robert obliged, climbing into the big bed one last time, wrapping his arms around his dear wife. He had missed her so much and she had been so strong, he planted a kiss on her forehead as she closed her eyes.
Mary, Edith, and Sybil never thought it odd that their mother died about the same day, only years after, her husband. They didn't find it odd that the bed clothes were rumpled on both sides of the bed and that their mother seemed to be smiling. They never explained to one another why they all seemed to be finally at peace with the memory of their father, the memory that they gathered to celebrate every September.