If you enjoyed Sara's Story, then follow the link to my blog main frontpage
http://angelwingsfiction.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Chapter 151
Okay - the previous one WAS meant to be the final chapter of this story. When I wrote it (quite a few months ago now) that was it. Done. Finished. Then, a week or so later, another scene started knocking on the door of my brain and would NOT quit. I decided to write it, just to get it out of my brain. I sent it to someone who'd already read the story (actually 2 people) and they insisted I should post it where I'd been posting the main story.
So, anyway, love it or hate me, it's here, and this is the true final chapter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jon stood at the doors of the church, for the first time feeling every one of his fifty one years crushing down on him. As he greeted the variety of family, friends and acquaintances who arrived, the beautiful brunette by his side was all that kept him civil and trying to smile. The only moment of levity so far - in fact the only time he’d really smiled since the car wreck - had been when Richie, accompanied by his blonde wife, Linda, had hugged him tightly, but instead of whispering the platitudes mouthed by most of the arrivals, he’d hissed bitterly in Jon’s ear.
“This fucking sucks, man.”
“Yeah.” Jon muttered back. “Thanks for coming, bro.”
Now almost everyone had arrived, but as they waited for a few more minutes, Jon looked down at the baby in her arms.
“He has your hair.” She murmured, stroking the mop of dark blond curls.
“Yeah, and his mommy’s beautiful brown eyes.”
Before another word could be exchanged, though, the priest emerged from the gloom of the church, beckoning them inside. Hand in hand, they walked inside, walking all the way to the front and taking their places on the front pew. Jon drew strength from her, and from his baby son cradled in her arms, sitting quietly as the priest droned through the beginning of the funeral service. Most of the words flowed straight over him as memories marched through his mind instead and he stared blindly down at the floor.
At length, the priest looked across to Jon, gesturing that he should take his place to read the eulogy. She squeezed Jon’s hand, whispering in his ear before he stood.
“I miss her too.” Her voice cracked, and Jon bent to kiss her forehead, then the blond baby, before squaring his shoulders and walking to the front of the church.
“Thank you all for coming.” He began, surprised and relieved to hear how strong his voice sounded in his own ears. “As you all know, this, this tragedy happened very quickly, but in spite of her injuries from the accident, she insisted on writing a short letter to you all.” He forced a soft laugh, though it was the last thing he felt like doing. “She always knew I had a talent for saying the wrong thing, so she figured this way maybe I’d get it right.”
The assembled congregation murmured a brief chuckle themselves, most of them knowing her well enough to know Jon was absolutely right.
Clearing his throat, Jon unfolded a sheet of paper, filled with typewritten words which had been transcribed from the handwritten scrawl which he’d penned at her insistence, sitting by her hospital bed, straining to hear her faint, weakening voice. He cleared his throat again, praying for the strength to get through this. Praying for her strength, he began to read.
“This is for Jon, for beautiful Stephanie and the handsome boys, Jesse, Jacob and Romeo. This is for Richie and Linda, our friends, and of course Tico, David and Hugh. I wish I could have said goodbye to you all in person, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be. Anyway, you know I’m watching, so I hope none of you are wearing black, because you know I’ll be back to haunt you if you are! Richie, I…..” Jon broke off, obviously fighting for control, then he tried again. “Richie…”
Tears were streaming down Jon’s face as his voice broke, fading into a choked sob, and it was Stephanie who got out of her seat and went across to him, hugging him tightly and whispering comfortingly to him before gently taking the page from his nerveless fingers. She held tightly to his hand as she read the final words aloud, tears running down her face, too.
“Richie, I want you and Linda to take care of my boys for me. My beautiful baby Sean and of course my darling husband, Jon. The one and only man I’ve loved. Thank you Jon, for making these last seven years the happiest I’ve known. I love you. So, enough of the sappy stuff already.” Even Jon managed to snuff a laugh at that, it was so typically her. “I just wanted to say goodbye to you all, and I love you. Jon - I’ll love you forever. All my love, Sara.”
Then, as per her request, Richie slowly stood and walked to the front, picking up a guitar which was hooked to amps which had been brought specifically for this occasion. Jon retreated into the shadows where he could vent his grief and try to get himself back together, listening to Richie play Wind Cries Mary. He felt his heart shatter into tiny pieces at the end of the song, though, when Richie whispered '...and the wind cries.......Sara.."
So like I said, love it or hate me, that's it. I'll tell you now that I'm just glad I touch-type, because I had tears streaming down my face when I wrote it. Lainey xx
So, anyway, love it or hate me, it's here, and this is the true final chapter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jon stood at the doors of the church, for the first time feeling every one of his fifty one years crushing down on him. As he greeted the variety of family, friends and acquaintances who arrived, the beautiful brunette by his side was all that kept him civil and trying to smile. The only moment of levity so far - in fact the only time he’d really smiled since the car wreck - had been when Richie, accompanied by his blonde wife, Linda, had hugged him tightly, but instead of whispering the platitudes mouthed by most of the arrivals, he’d hissed bitterly in Jon’s ear.
“This fucking sucks, man.”
“Yeah.” Jon muttered back. “Thanks for coming, bro.”
Now almost everyone had arrived, but as they waited for a few more minutes, Jon looked down at the baby in her arms.
“He has your hair.” She murmured, stroking the mop of dark blond curls.
“Yeah, and his mommy’s beautiful brown eyes.”
Before another word could be exchanged, though, the priest emerged from the gloom of the church, beckoning them inside. Hand in hand, they walked inside, walking all the way to the front and taking their places on the front pew. Jon drew strength from her, and from his baby son cradled in her arms, sitting quietly as the priest droned through the beginning of the funeral service. Most of the words flowed straight over him as memories marched through his mind instead and he stared blindly down at the floor.
At length, the priest looked across to Jon, gesturing that he should take his place to read the eulogy. She squeezed Jon’s hand, whispering in his ear before he stood.
“I miss her too.” Her voice cracked, and Jon bent to kiss her forehead, then the blond baby, before squaring his shoulders and walking to the front of the church.
“Thank you all for coming.” He began, surprised and relieved to hear how strong his voice sounded in his own ears. “As you all know, this, this tragedy happened very quickly, but in spite of her injuries from the accident, she insisted on writing a short letter to you all.” He forced a soft laugh, though it was the last thing he felt like doing. “She always knew I had a talent for saying the wrong thing, so she figured this way maybe I’d get it right.”
The assembled congregation murmured a brief chuckle themselves, most of them knowing her well enough to know Jon was absolutely right.
Clearing his throat, Jon unfolded a sheet of paper, filled with typewritten words which had been transcribed from the handwritten scrawl which he’d penned at her insistence, sitting by her hospital bed, straining to hear her faint, weakening voice. He cleared his throat again, praying for the strength to get through this. Praying for her strength, he began to read.
“This is for Jon, for beautiful Stephanie and the handsome boys, Jesse, Jacob and Romeo. This is for Richie and Linda, our friends, and of course Tico, David and Hugh. I wish I could have said goodbye to you all in person, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be. Anyway, you know I’m watching, so I hope none of you are wearing black, because you know I’ll be back to haunt you if you are! Richie, I…..” Jon broke off, obviously fighting for control, then he tried again. “Richie…”
Tears were streaming down Jon’s face as his voice broke, fading into a choked sob, and it was Stephanie who got out of her seat and went across to him, hugging him tightly and whispering comfortingly to him before gently taking the page from his nerveless fingers. She held tightly to his hand as she read the final words aloud, tears running down her face, too.
“Richie, I want you and Linda to take care of my boys for me. My beautiful baby Sean and of course my darling husband, Jon. The one and only man I’ve loved. Thank you Jon, for making these last seven years the happiest I’ve known. I love you. So, enough of the sappy stuff already.” Even Jon managed to snuff a laugh at that, it was so typically her. “I just wanted to say goodbye to you all, and I love you. Jon - I’ll love you forever. All my love, Sara.”
Then, as per her request, Richie slowly stood and walked to the front, picking up a guitar which was hooked to amps which had been brought specifically for this occasion. Jon retreated into the shadows where he could vent his grief and try to get himself back together, listening to Richie play Wind Cries Mary. He felt his heart shatter into tiny pieces at the end of the song, though, when Richie whispered '...and the wind cries.......Sara.."
So like I said, love it or hate me, that's it. I'll tell you now that I'm just glad I touch-type, because I had tears streaming down my face when I wrote it. Lainey xx
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
