“We’re going to be late if you don’t hurry,” Jan said, trying not to let her irritation show as the kids took forever to find their shoes. She’d like to arrive before the service started, and roads would already be closed for the march.

“Do we have to go?” Harry asked, a smudge of Vegemite on his cheek.

Jan swallowed the sigh and chose her words carefully. “I suppose not.”

“But you’re still going?”

“Yes.” She looped a scarf around her neck.

He flopped onto the floor and tugged on his yellow gumboots. “How come?” 

“Because,” Jan said, squatting down and wiping his cheek, “Dad’s not coming home, and I want to honor him by being there.”

“Well, Grandpa Jake says war is horrible,” Katie said, “and I agree.” She chewed her lip and looked away.

“Me too,” Jan whispered, grabbing her keys and heading to the car. She swiped angrily at the debris on the windshield and swallowed hard. The car sputtered and turned over as she buckled her seatbelt before dissolving into tears. 

“Mum?” Katie’s hand rested on her shoulder. “I want to come.” Her voice broke. “It’s just… it hurts so much.”

Jan took a deep breath and composed herself before wrapping her daughter in a hug. “I know.”

A knock on the window startled them both. Harry pressed his face against the glass.

“Can Grandpa come too, Mum?” 

She nodded.

“Well, let’s get moving,” Grandpa said, “or we won’t get to the Epitaph before they start.”

Word: debris | Action: gathering