I loaded the laundry and started the machines. Laundry night, bound to brim with excitement.
I stopped by the vending machine to pick up a Diet Coke. As I started back through the security door, I heard a group coming into the building. I did the nice thing and waited for them, holding the door.
Their interactions clearly marked them as an extended family; their clothes showed they had gathered for a family event of some sort.
We crowded on to the elevator. They made family jokes and talked about other family members. In the few short moments we rode together, names were named and tales told.
Finally someone mentioned Allison. The name drew a reaction.
“Allison?” said one of the younger men standing behind me.
“You remember Allison,” replied one of the women. “You wanted to marry her at Uncle Percy’s funeral.”
At that point the elevator reached their floor and they piled out of the elevator, leaving me to wonder:
Was a proposal made at the funeral? Did the wedding ever take place? Why not? How were Uncle Percy and Allison related, if at all? Where is Allison now? Is she well? Does she miss what could have been? Was she already married at the time of the funeral?
Many questions that will keep me up all night.
See you along the Trail.
Along the Graybeard Trail 