All three had appreciated the Memorial Service this time round, the words of Canon Winder echoing a truth that appeared consistent through the years since those horror days of Long Tan in ‘66. With the passage of time, the raw passion had eased being replaced with a dull acceptance. Their father had been blown to pieces. End of story. Let’s join together in song, with ‘Immortal Invisible’.
After the service each year, they adjourned to Le Grand Café within the Alliance Francaise in Clarence Street. This ritual commenced as a fitting way to comprehend the revelations of their father’s Viet-Franco children which they were told upon the death of their mother in early ’82.
They blinked as they returned into the glare of a Sydney summer. ‘Sweet and fitting’ would be a good description, one that each sibling could clasp, even over the great chasm between loss, discovery and remembrance.