Ashes to Ashes

"How're you keeping?" Diarmuid didn't know what else to say as a heartbroken Grainne opened the door, the day of Darragh's funeral. Oisin was to be buried that day as well. They'd done everything together in life, and so this seemed the right thing to do.

"As good as I can be." Grainne managed a smile, though it looked as though it was paining her.

"I'm so, so sorry, Grainne." Diarmuid said quietly. "Really, I am. I never thought … I never thought it would be Darragh."

"Me neither." Grainne agreed, sighing. "Come on in. We're leaving in a minute. It's the day we've all been dreading. The day the kids see their father buried." Grainne's eyes filled with tears. Diarmuid hugged her and she collapsed into him, clinging onto him.

"You'll be fine, Grainne. You're a strong person." Diarmuid whispered to her. Sobbing and gripping onto him, Grainne managed to reply.

"It's n - not me I'm sad for … it's the wee ones … C – Caolan won't even remember him when he gets older, and Aoibheann will barely recall him … and Miceál … my little Miceál … he's g – grown up so quickly!"

"Stay strong, Grainne." Diarmuid whispered to her. "I promise you you'll be all right. You know I'm always here. You're never alone."

"I don't know what I'd have done without you, Diarmuid," Grainne said truthfully. Diarmuid had been a Saint to her these last few days.

"I wish me and Darragh could have gotten along better." Diarmuid sighed after a few minutes. "He was such a cool guy, but we didn’t see eye to eye very often. But when we did … man, we had a geg." Grainne smiled bravely.

"My Darragh didn’t see eye to eye with a lot of people." she managed a weak laugh.

"I'm so glad you don't hold a grudge with me," Diarmuid said softly.

"Why would I?" Grainne looked at him, shock in her eyes. Diarmuid shifted from foot to foot, slightly awkwardly.

"I was at the house as well. When the soldiers came. When Darragh was shot. I survived." Diarmuid sighed heavily. "Darragh didn't."

There was silence as both people remembered the day Darragh had left them.

"He didn’t stand a chance," Grainne whispered, tears filling up her eyes again. She pulled herself together. It was time to go. Darragh and Oisin's funeral began on the street next to theirs, where the parents of both men lived. The street the best friends had grown up on together. Going into the living room, Grainne picked up baby Caolan, who was too young to understand what was going on. Little Aoibheann knew something was wrong, but at two years old she was happy with the fact that her Daddy had gone to Heaven to be with God and Jesus and the Angels.

Miceál was sitting silently in the corner, hugging his knees to his chin, his bottom lip wobbling.

"Come on, Miceál, baby,' Grainne whispered to him. Instantly, upon hearing his mother's voice and remembering his promise to his father, Miceál put on his brave face and stood up. Taking his mother's hand and Diarmuid taking Aoibheann in his arms, the sad little procession made its way out of the house and up the street.

As IRA Volunteers, both young men were receiving full IRA funerals. When they got onto the street, it was packed. Nearly the whole area had turned up to pay their last respects to the fallen soldiers of Ireland. Grainne remembered those long nights of sitting beside her husband's coffin, which had been laid, open, in the living room. She didn’t want to let him go. At least he had been in the house … now they were burying him.

When everyone had gathered, Grainne and her children at the very front with Diarmuid for support, silence fell. Three men, masked with balaclavas and armed with guns, stood by the coffins, in a neat row. Little Miceál watched them, his eyes wide with child-like admiration.

Both coffins were draped in the green, white and orange tricolour. The flag they'd fought and died for. A framed photograph of each man was placed on the top of his coffin as well. Grainne stared at the photograph of her husband. She had taken it herself. She could feel her very heart aching for him.

And then all of a sudden, the three masked IRA Volunteers assembled, as one, raised their guns into the air, and on an order called in Irish, fired several volleys of shots over the coffins of the fallen Volunteers, and as the gunshots ripped through the air and birds took flight from the tress and roofs nearby, Grainne began to sob. It was the only correct way to send off a dead Volunteer, she thought. But she never thought she would be doing it for her own husband, and the father of her children.

After they had walked for several minutes, the coffins being carried by the dead men's brothers and fathers, they arrived at the cemetery. It was nice to hear people speaking of the good memories of Darragh and Oisin, and the general opinion was that at least they were together again now. Grainne sighed. She'd rather they still be here.

She shifted little Caolan in her arms, who was watching everything through big eyes. Aoibheann was standing next to her now, and than was when she noticed. Where was Miceál?

"Miceál?" she asked quietly. There was no sign of the little boy, until she looked away from the ground around her.

Miceál was standing at his father's coffin, with his little hands resting on it. Grainne felt her breath falter and her throat tighten at the sight of him, and tears rushed to her eyes again. Everyone had fallen silent, watching the little boy grieving for his father. And then little Miceál turned around and faced everyone, tears falling from his little eyes and down his young cheeks.

"They put my Daddy in there," he said quietly, pointing at the coffin. "Them bad men took my Daddy away. My Daddy was a good man and I loved him. I miss my Daddy. So do my little brother and sister. And my Mummy. Daddy can't help us anymore. The bad man that shot Daddy can walk away, but Daddy can't. Daddy can't walk. My Daddy is gone, and I won’t be seeing him for a long long time. And I love my Daddy. I don't want to say goodbye. But I have too. I love my Daddy so much. He's not a bad man." Miceál turned around again, and he put his tiny hands onto the coffin. "Goodbye, Daddy."

There was a long silence after the little child went back to his mother. And then, slowly, like a ripple in a pond, everyone broke out in sobs.