Twelve Months (24 page)

There was a pause, and then angry cascading rain soaked my window sill.

Bella watched me with curious eyes.

“You can close it now,” I told her. “Thank you.”

She sat by my side and held my hand. “Let's stay in touch, okay?” she finally whispered. It was the last thing she'd told me on the rainy day we met.

“Okay,” I tried to say but I was drifting off again, totally submerged in a pool of tranquility. I felt as if I were six again, lying on a warm set of flannel sheets with my mother tucking a thick comforter under my chin. I shivered once, but it wasn't from the cold. It was from the joy that I felt, a sudden rush of peace.

As far as I was concerned, the list was complete. I'd said everything I needed to say. My family was okay. All in the world was good.

Though I couldn't yawn, I felt so tired – tired of traveling, tired of fighting. It was time to rest, so I decided to surrender to it. One more clap of thunder with a bright flash outside my window and I smiled. It was time to sleep. I think I took one more breath, maybe two, and exhaled for the last time…

A collage of smiling photos greeted mourners at the funeral home, many of the pictures taken during the last thirteen and a half months of Don DiMarco's life. His eyes shone with life and his smile had never been brighter.

There was quite a turnout, many showing out of respect for Riley and Michael. Even Beatrice Goran, the neighborhood busybody, was seated up front.

Father Edward Principato wore a halo of hair around his shiny skull and a constant smile. His blue eyes were intent on making any situation better and he spoke with the accent of someone who'd been raised in the Bible Belt. As he offered several prayers for Don DiMarco's immortal soul, each word was sincere.

Tributes from several of the mourners made a few of the women in the back sob. Jimmy Smeaton said, “Although I only knew Don for a short time, it was clear to me why he touched so many lives. When talking with Don, you could tell how genuine and caring he was. He had a way about him that made everyone feel at ease in his company. I enjoyed his story telling and fun sense of humor. And for every conversation I had with Don – though I doubt he'd agree – he would impart words of wisdom, encouragement and support. I'll miss Don terribly. I'll miss his physical presence, but the memories of Don will live on. He was truly a special person. When thinking of Don, I am thankful for the time I shared with him.”

Michael walked to the lectern next and the place went silent. “‘So many people are just sitting around waiting to die,'” my father-in-law would say, “‘but when you make a conscious decision to live, there's no better ride in the universe.'” He looked up. “'It's one life,' he'd say, ‘my life, and when it's over I can only pray I've made a difference in the lives of others.'”

A hush of agreement rolled over the crowd.

Michael unfolded a letter. “And now a letter from my father-in-law…something he asked me to deliver on his behalf.”

The silence grew thicker.

“To my friends at McKaskies: Thank you for all the laughs. I will miss each of you.”

Each man bowed his head in respect.

“To my brother, Joseph: We may not have always seen eye-to-eye, but you are my brother and I have always looked up to you. I have no intentions of stopping now.”

The paunchy, worn-out thug nodded.

“To Dewey, my brother – not by blood or heritage, but by choice – I have cherished every minute we shared together. Keep the faith, brother.”

Dewey's swollen face lit up with a smile.

“To my son-in-law, Michael: You are the son I never had and I want to thank you for taking such good care of my daughter and grandchildren. Keep up the good work.”

Michael stopped for a moment to collect himself and shot his wife a smile.

“To my daughter, Riley – you are still all the luck I'll ever need. Know that I am with you, always.

“To my beautiful grandchildren, Madison and Pudge – make sure you chase your dreams because they do come true. And please don't be foolish like me and wait until the end of your lives to start enjoying all of the magical moments waiting for you. Follow your hearts, be true to yourselves and know that no matter what paths you choose to take, I am already proud of you.” He paused again. “Oh, and thank you for not peeking into the box, but it's all yours now.”

Michael stood erect for one last push.

“And to the love of my life – thank you for loving me, Bella. I never needed anything more than that; wouldn't have asked for anything more. My life was blessed because of you. You are the beat of my heart and I will never be without you. Know that each night before you lie down to sleep.”

With a nod, she looked toward the ceiling and let her tears flow freely.

At the reception following the funeral, family and friends ate apple pie, shared Don's many stories and laughed. There couldn't have been a more fitting celebration for his life.

When the family returned to the house, Michael fought back his emotions and told Bella, “Dad made me promise to place four things into the inside pocket of his suit coat…the pearl earring, a seashell earring, a white rabbit's foot and a colored drawing of he, Madison and Pudge.” He shrugged. “He said he'd once promised to take care of the earring, so he's taking it with him.”

Bella and Riley looked at each other. Neither had known. They held each other and began to cry.

Michael then produced his father-in-law's precious wooden box and turned to his children. “Poppa asked me to give this to you guys.”

They stepped forward, prepared to receive their long-awaited prize.

Michael handed them the box. “Here's the thing your Poppa treasured most in the whole world.” The last few words drifted on emotion.

Together, they finally opened it. Inside, there was nothing but a stack of photos. Some were instant Polaroids, others were glossy color prints. Madison pulled off the elastic band and started to look through them. The photos dated as far back as her birth. Each one showed one or both of them with Poppa, smiling. A few found them with their arms wrapped around each other. Others caught them laughing. Madison's head flew up. She looked at her parents and grandmother who were all crying, and then at Pudge. “It was the time we spent together,” she screamed. “That's what Poppa treasured most…the time we spent with him!”

Once the sobs subsided and the hugs grew tired, Riley, Michael and the kids bid Bella, “Goodnight,” and promised, “We'll see you on the weekend.”

It didn't take long for the silence to set in. It was so sorrowful. Within the hour, Bella decided to clean the house and burn off some of her nervous energy.

The roar of the vacuum cleaner was keeping her company when she spotted something sticking out from under the radiator. She shut off the vacuum and bent down to reach for it. The puzzle piece was in her hand before she realized what it was. “Oh, Lord,” she said and headed straight for the dining room.

With a nod, she placed the last piece into the puzzle. “This is for you, hon,” she whispered, “…the picture's now complete.” And the tears came again – a new wave trying to soothe the incredible love that ached to be near him again.

Steven Manchester is the author of
Pressed Pennies, The Unexpected Storm: The Gulf War Legacy
and
Jacob Evans,
as well as several books under the pseudonym, Steven Herberts. His work has appeared on NBC's
Today Show
, CBS's
The Early Show
, CNN's
American Morning
and BET's
Nightly News.
Recently, three of Steven's short stories were selected “101 Best” for the
Chicken Soup for the Soul
series. When not spending time with his beautiful wife, Paula, or his four children, this Massachusetts author is promoting his works or writing. Visit:
www.StevenManchester.com