The Meeting

Two Decades Later

⚠️ I'm sorry. ⚠️

This wasn't how I expected it to be - I expected it to be lonely, scary, and sad. It wasn't though. Despite how it had looked to me when I went through it with my parents, with Janice, with the other members of our family; now it was me, I wasn't lonely, scared or sad. Instead, when I looked around the room, body tired but heart still full, I saw the faces of the people I loved the most. I knew they'd be okay, and that was enough for me. The doctor had been in, he'd whispered something to Leah - I knew it was that I hadn't got much time left. She gave the nod to our children, leaving the room so Aoife could talk to me alone; the first of my five last conversations.

She paced the room at first, eyes watering as she tried to prevent me from seeing it. She had Leah's build, making her look even more vulnerable than she already did; those long legs, muscly but slender body, and prominent features that made her a social media star without relying on who her parents were.

"It's okay to be sad in front of me, Aoifs. You know that?" I whispered, voice frail.
"I don't want to be weak, mum. I don't want to leave you with the image of me being weak."
"Then come get into bed with me, one last time, and let's talk about things that don't make you sad."

She obliged immediately, taking a seat on the bed beside me and lowering her head to my chest. At first it was silent, just a mother and daughter inwardly recalling the memories they had shared along the years; when the time was right, she began to recall them outwardly, she began to realise that goodbye didn't have to mean sadness.

"Do you remember my Arsenal senior team debut?" She chuckled.
"Like yesterday, Aoifs." I smiled.

Flashback:

"You two better not cry, I mean it! If you start crying I'll actually die off." Aoife pouted.
"I'm all cried out, I'll be nothing but proud. Your mum though, she's definitely going to cry." I chuckled.
"I mean it, mum!"
"No promises, but I'll try my best." Leah sighed.

We travelled to the stadium with the rest of the family, our hearts full of nothing but pride as we received the complimentary match day guide; our little girl, all grown up, proudly on the front of it.

"She's beautiful." I smiled.
"She's done us so proud. So proud."

Leah shifted about in her seat during the warm ups, nerves taking over as she tried to reassure herself that Aoife was ready for this. There's no going back after your debut. That's what she kept telling me, worried that people would make a comparison between Aoife and her mother at every opportunity; both having completely different positions and playing styles.

"Al, what're you doing?" Leah cocked an eyebrow.
"Putting an earphone in, what does it look like?"
"Why?" Leah screwed her face up.
"Because I wanna hear what they say about her on the commentary when she comes out."
"Oh - good idea - give me an earphone."

So that's how we stood, beaming down as we watched the team walk out and seeing Williamson splashed across the shirt of our daughter, who would go on to captain Arsenal and England; just as her mum had.

Contrary to my promises, I sobbed. Leah managed to hold it together, but every shot that the cameras got of me showed me drowning in tears, and clapping as loud as my hands would let me.

"You said you wouldn't cry!" Aoife chuckled as she came to find us after the game.
"I didn't!" Leah protested.
"The interviewer literally said 'your mum was emotional wasn't she' there now."

I stood looking guilty.

"Oh my god! It was you!" Aoife chuckled harder.
"Guilty." I smiled.
"I'm all cried out - yeah right, mum!"