By Bud Pharo
They instinctively joined hands as their son and granddaughter approached.
“Ah, look at them,” she said. “She’s adorable!”
“She’s growing up fast,” he added.
“I really wish we could go home with them this year,” she said, her voice cracking.
“Me too,” he sighed.
They knew the hardest part was next, as their son lifted his daughter to trace the names etched in bronze of grandparents she’d never met.
In twenty-two years, their DNA had not matched any recovered remains. So, they, and the souls of more than a thousand others, continue to walk these hallowed grounds, longing to go home.
Loved these words. Well done! Wonder where their remains are?
Thank you for reading my story. It was inspired by my visit to the 9/11 Memorial in lower Manhattan. Tragically, the remains over a thousand victims have yet to be identified.
Wow! That choked me up a bit, especially seeing your comment that it was the 9/11 Memorial. I was a flight attendant working that morning and was obviously shell-shocked and stranded in Cincinnati for 5 days. All I wanted to do was get home to hug my children.
So much emotion in so few words. Loved this story.
Thank you for your kind comments.
Such a sad commentary of wars. They are known only to God.
Beautiful tribute that resonates with me any too many others. Very moving!
Very well done. I enjoyed the point of view of the couple.