The Story of Robert A. Cahill’s Iron Box (Part 3)

Continued from previous blog post.  Make sure to read past installment!

“I want you to spread my ashes on the North Atlantic.”

Although dimmed with time, Robert’s eyes held again the spark of his youth as he spoke.  He waited anxiously for Marie’s response.  His request was one of the few he had uttered in their marriage.

“I know the trip would be long for you … and that you have never sailed … but …” Robert’s voice faltered. “It would mean so much to me to be finally back at sea.”

Marie looked down at her knitting and began feverishly looping stiches.  Moments passed before she returned her husband’s steady gaze. 

At her hesitance, Robert pressed, “John Barkley assured me that when the time comes he will be at your assistance if you need help arranging the trip.”

“You spoke with the lawyer about this?”

“A year ago, when he and I prepared my will.”

Silence invaded the room almost as if it too sat present at Robert’s bedside.

“Marie?”

“Yes … yes, Robert.  I’ll go.  Of course I wish to honor my dear husband’s last request.”

With his mind at ease, Robert soon drifted off to sleep.  The room fell quiet except for the click-click of Marie’s needles.

Three days later, Robert A. Cahill Jr. died.  Mourners came, a simple service took place, and Marie made her plans for departure.  She refused Mr. Barkley’s help.  He could not know there would be no boat ticket.

Marie would visit her sister for several weeks.  To everyone else, it would appear that she departed with heavy heart on a voyage to disperse her late husband’s ashes.

Continued next time!

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