I hope they at least had a good holiday, as holidays go. That they laughed, and played, and spent a lot of time together, and made memories. Because she’d need them. This was in the late 1980’s, in very conservative South Africa. I imagine the father was not open to his wife driving back, not even part of the way, because driving was very much considered a man’s job. (We still have men who have those types of views, even today). But maybe I’m wrong, maybe it wasn’t his fault at all. Either way, it was not him who paid the greatest price. He probably fell asleep behind the wheel and she lost everyone that afternoon. Her two siblings, and both parents. She went to live with her aunt and cousins, and lived off the memories for the rest of time.
(This is a vignette. I explain them here.)