I got the telephone call on a day that the whole country had been thrown into confusion.  Mom, please come get me.  I want to come home.

The horror that hit the country caused all flights to be cancelled.  Half of the country lie between my son and me.  How to get there, how to reach him, how to answer the call.

Three days passed filled with frantic waiting and at last I was on a flight to New Orleans.  I rented a car and he met me at the airport.

We drove and drove across our magnificent country.  We ate smelly fast food, we listened to each other’s music, we laughed and avoided talking about what caused our estrangement. Finally early one morning, with the golden sun in our eyes, the end of our long drive home was in sight as was the beginning of the last year of his life.

Thanks for taking the time to read,


This is written in response to Sue Vincent’s photo prompt,

About Bernadette

I live in the small town of Haddonfield, NJ. I am at an age in my life when I seem to spend time thinking and musing about life. These musings are usually stimulated by my walks through Haddonfield, my reading of books and fellow bloggers, and my interaction with my group of fabulous family and friends.

36 Responses

  1. My first stop after travelling six hours home was here… Me oh my and how Bernadette does fly. An excellent response, a poignant piece with a punch to the gut. How your wings have formed to lift you to another level. Here is to a successful 2017🍷💛

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Hi Bernadette, I love this piece of writing as the emotions it engenders in just a few words are incredibly powerful. I shows the beauty of the written word in that even as far away as Scotland my heart and mind were captured and I too wanted to give you a huge hug. Thanks for sharing.



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