Free Frequent Traveller (Cathy Dixon #1) by Pandora Poikilos Page B
Authors: Pandora Poikilos
hot cup of tea. "No one is supposed to bury their child. He was all I lived for," she continued.
Gently, Cathy nodded and held on to Mrs. Laurie's clasped hands.
"I am so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Laurie and if there is anything I can do ... please let me know what you need."
"Sit with me," the older woman said.
"Sure ... sure."
A week passed before a combined funeral service was held for those who died. Only one family had requested and made arrangements for their son's body to be flown back to Ireland. The others participated in the joint service before the bodies were cremated and taken back with each family.
On that day, Mrs. Laurie was not alone. Karen stood by her side, they needed each other. Karen had suffered a broken arm, eight broken fingers with severe cuts and bruises to her body. She had survived but was uncertain if she would ever be able to move on from such devastation. The multi-denominational service was a sombre affair with tributes given by one member from each of the bikers' families.
Mrs. Laurie sought the best words to describe her son. Her words were a testament to the loss faced by so many others in the room.
"No parent deserves the sorrow that comes with the death of their child. But if we have been blessed with their lives, then we must remember the joy they have brought us and not the loss that has shattered us. So many times, my little Nicholas thought I was teaching him a lesson but it was his passion for life that has taught me the best lessons in my life ..."
As the service ended, the two ladies went for a walk. Mrs. Laurie held Karen's hand tightly as she stopped and looked at the younger woman who had shared so much love in both the life of her son and hers. "This is the problem when we wait too long, Karen," she said.
She pushed a small object into the palms of Karen's hands.
"He had asked me for it weeks ago. It was my wedding ring and when they returned his things to me, I realised he hadn't given it to you. Hadn't even asked you. Take it, my love. If anything, you'll have something to remember him by."
Karen tried hard not to break down but as the memories came flashing back, she held the ring tightly to her chest, "I'll always have his heart, always and always."
UDEN, NETHERLANDS
July 2008
As with most of the smaller European towns, Uden had been dominated by other nations. It experienced all kinds of peril before it settled into the quiet town it is today. Initially ruled by the Germans in the 1400s, it later became part of the Dutch Republic but not before being overpowered by the French. In 1810, it was officially declared as part of the Kingdom of the Netherlands. Uden is well-known for its religious tolerance, one district in its vicinity has even formed its own church.
Although the Netherlands was a neutral party in World War I, Uden is dotted with historical elements of this war and World War II. Despite sketchy records, it is believed that thousands of Flemish refugees were put up in a refugee camp at the outskirts of Uden until 1918. The World War II cemetery remains symbolic of the bravery locals displayed when overcoming the German invasion.
Born as a result of the German invasion, the Volkel Air Base has experienced its share of controversy. Since 1961, it has housed a small unit of the United States Air Force. It is strongly believed that this unit was responsible for the storage and maintenance of nuclear weapons at Volkel Air Base alongside the Dutch Ministry of Defence. These findings, however, have never been officially acknowledged or denied.
Natural disasters have also had a share in marking Uden's history. In June 1840, a huge meteorite fell into a peat field. It narrowly missed a group of farmers. A devastating cyclone in 1925 left much of the town in shambles but still the town went on to make a booming economic recovery in the ‘50s. While tourism does not seem an obvious
Gently, Cathy nodded and held on to Mrs. Laurie's clasped hands.
"I am so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Laurie and if there is anything I can do ... please let me know what you need."
"Sit with me," the older woman said.
"Sure ... sure."
A week passed before a combined funeral service was held for those who died. Only one family had requested and made arrangements for their son's body to be flown back to Ireland. The others participated in the joint service before the bodies were cremated and taken back with each family.
On that day, Mrs. Laurie was not alone. Karen stood by her side, they needed each other. Karen had suffered a broken arm, eight broken fingers with severe cuts and bruises to her body. She had survived but was uncertain if she would ever be able to move on from such devastation. The multi-denominational service was a sombre affair with tributes given by one member from each of the bikers' families.
Mrs. Laurie sought the best words to describe her son. Her words were a testament to the loss faced by so many others in the room.
"No parent deserves the sorrow that comes with the death of their child. But if we have been blessed with their lives, then we must remember the joy they have brought us and not the loss that has shattered us. So many times, my little Nicholas thought I was teaching him a lesson but it was his passion for life that has taught me the best lessons in my life ..."
As the service ended, the two ladies went for a walk. Mrs. Laurie held Karen's hand tightly as she stopped and looked at the younger woman who had shared so much love in both the life of her son and hers. "This is the problem when we wait too long, Karen," she said.
She pushed a small object into the palms of Karen's hands.
"He had asked me for it weeks ago. It was my wedding ring and when they returned his things to me, I realised he hadn't given it to you. Hadn't even asked you. Take it, my love. If anything, you'll have something to remember him by."
Karen tried hard not to break down but as the memories came flashing back, she held the ring tightly to her chest, "I'll always have his heart, always and always."
UDEN, NETHERLANDS
July 2008
As with most of the smaller European towns, Uden had been dominated by other nations. It experienced all kinds of peril before it settled into the quiet town it is today. Initially ruled by the Germans in the 1400s, it later became part of the Dutch Republic but not before being overpowered by the French. In 1810, it was officially declared as part of the Kingdom of the Netherlands. Uden is well-known for its religious tolerance, one district in its vicinity has even formed its own church.
Although the Netherlands was a neutral party in World War I, Uden is dotted with historical elements of this war and World War II. Despite sketchy records, it is believed that thousands of Flemish refugees were put up in a refugee camp at the outskirts of Uden until 1918. The World War II cemetery remains symbolic of the bravery locals displayed when overcoming the German invasion.
Born as a result of the German invasion, the Volkel Air Base has experienced its share of controversy. Since 1961, it has housed a small unit of the United States Air Force. It is strongly believed that this unit was responsible for the storage and maintenance of nuclear weapons at Volkel Air Base alongside the Dutch Ministry of Defence. These findings, however, have never been officially acknowledged or denied.
Natural disasters have also had a share in marking Uden's history. In June 1840, a huge meteorite fell into a peat field. It narrowly missed a group of farmers. A devastating cyclone in 1925 left much of the town in shambles but still the town went on to make a booming economic recovery in the ‘50s. While tourism does not seem an obvious
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