Daddy's Kisses

[Clair 247]

Here's the next chapter, will be too busy to post tomorrow so thought I'd put the next one up tonight rather than make you wait! Once again thankyou so much for your comments! Enjoy!

Chapter Eleven

Jack blinked in shock. When had she written this? He tried to remember the last time he had seen her working on the chests for the children, it had to be just a couple of days before she died. She knew the end was coming and had clearly painstakingly written out this post-it note for him. She had guessed that he would seek comfort in the chests she had made and left a message just for him. He pushed the children’s chests back under the bed and pulling himself up headed across the room to her wardrobe. Crouching to his knees he pulled items of her clothing out of the wardrobe one by one, remembering the occasions on which she had worn them, how that one had brought out the colour of her eyes, how she had teamed that with one of her favourite skirts, the small fortune she had paid for that one! His hand then hit something hard, something wooden. Clearing away the last few items he saw it, a wooden chest identical to that of the children’s lovingly labelled ‘For Jack’. Heaving the hefty chest out of the wardrobe he brought it to his knees and gently lifted the lid.

Unbeknown to Jack she had secretly created a chest for him too, a complete collection of the time they had shared together. A lifetime of memories crammed into a wooden chest and for her beloved husband’s eyes only. She included photographs and mementos from the very first time they met, the speeding ticket he had issued her with, an eight ball from their infamous pool game, the fake spider she had planted in his room and caused him injury. CDs and DVDs they had loved and enjoyed together, tickets to all the places they had visited as a couple or family, she included everything, wedding photographs and her cowboy boots, the one thing she had worn that day that had survived the explosion. Their positive pregnancy tests and ultrasound pictures for both their precious children and hundreds of family photos all smiling happily at the camera. As she had done for the children she had made a DVD message for Jack when he just needed to see her face and hear her voice. She had made just one, one that said all she needed to tell him, all he needed to know. Written down in a letter was a list that she wanted and asked Jack to complete for her. She asked that he would take the children to specific places around the world, some places she had never been and others she longed her children to see too. Paris, Egypt, New York, Disneyland Florida and closer to home Sydney Harbour Bridge, Ayers Rock and finally the farm she had spent her childhood on. She wished that her children do whatever they want in life, be who they want to be and not conform to anyone else’s ideas or views and she wanted Jack to learn to love someone else again. Give his heart completely to someone other than herself and let them hold it close like she had.

[Clair 247]

I'm sorry! You all seem to be in floods of tears! There is some good news though. When I posted the first chapter I said that it was going to be quite a long story. Having said that when I compare it to others that are over fifty chapters long, mine looks short! I think it will be around twenty chapters so I guess you won't be crying much longer! Hope that's ok, sorry for posting that, I thought twenty chapters was long! Here's the next chapter, enjoy!

Chapter Twelve

Jack couldn’t believe that she had kept all this stuff, how she had created this just for him. After poring over the photographs and memorabilia she had lovingly put together for him he grasped the DVD and pushed himself up off the floor. Peering into Matthew’s cot he checked his baby boy was breathing easily and padded through to the lounge. Passing Mia’s room he put his head around the door and after adjusting to the semi-darkness smiled at his young daughter. She was completely up the wrong end of her tiny bed; arms flung high over her head, her mouth open slightly. She looked so like Martha. Jack had struggled to look at his daughter at times during the past few months, her appearance bringing back the pain of losing her mother. He had got through it now though and realised her appearance was to be cherished; he only hoped that she would grow up to be even half the woman her mother was.

Settling down on the sofa Jack stared at the remote control he held in his hand, pressing play would show him Martha in the flesh, he would be able to hear her voice and see her beautiful face, things he had longed to do for so long, but at the same time his loss would be all the more real, the picture on the television just that, a picture, a poor copy of the real thing he had once had. A woman who had curled up next to him on this very sofa, who had kissed him here, made love to him here, almost given birth to their daughter in the very spot, he was now sitting in. Jack closed his eyes and pressed play, the machine whirred into life and then he heard it, a voice his ears had never forgotten, a voice that played in his head daily and visited him nightly in his dreams, her voice.

Sorry it's another short one, chapter thirteen will be much longer, promise!

[Clair 247]

Just look at the length of this chapter! Can't believe I wrote such a long one! Hope it doesn't bore you all! Thanks again for all your comments, love to read them, though I'm not sure this is as great as you all say it is! Enjoy!

Chapter Thirteen

For hours Jack lost himself, immersed completely in her eyes, in her voice. She had made the film in their bedroom just weeks before her death and while she looked pale and thin sat up in bed in her pyjamas she was still the most beautiful woman Jack had ever seen. He slid himself off the sofa and settled on the floor getting as close to the television as possible, wanting to touch the screen as Mia did when her favourite children’s shows came on. She was there in the room with him, talking to him and it felt so good. She had somehow merged footage of their wedding video with footage of their children, family holidays and trips to the beach; they were all there with her sweet voice commentating in the background.

Captivated by his wife once more Jack watched the DVD over and over, replaying each scene both on the television and in his mind. He saw things he had forgotten, how she had playfully pushed him in front of the whole church when he mentioned ‘nudie runs’ in his vows. He watched in awe at the footage shot down at the beach, the hours he had spent teaching her to surf, getting her to her knees and then feet. The jubilation and pride mirrored on both their faces at their accomplishments. Other shots showed him picking her up and throwing her into the sea, the look of indignation on her face bringing a smile to his even now. There were shots of Martha throughout her first pregnancy, the bump growing bigger throughout the passing months, shots of Jack with his hands on her swollen stomach feeling their baby kick. Then there were shots of a baby Mia, their little family going out for their first walk, Mia bundled into a buggy far too big for her tiny body. Mia’s first bath, words, walking, Jack didn’t even know who had shot all this footage! Immersed completely in the film, his mind and senses going back in time even if his body was still sat on the lounge floor. The scenes with Matthew showed how far they had come, while Jack and Martha looked tired, worn down by the heavy burdens each were carrying, the love shown in their faces was just as evident. As the scenes faded to darkness the final shots were just of Martha sat in their back garden.

She was speaking only to him, her face close to the camera. She explained that she had to be quick as he had only taken the children for a walk along the beach. Apparently he had told her to rest but obviously she had taken no notice of this order! She grinned cheekily at him and blew him a kiss, apologising for disobeying him but expecting that as she was doing this for him he would forgive her. Her smile faded as she realised that if he were watching this film she would no longer be there with him. Looking straight down the lens, she told him how he had been her rock throughout it all, that he had been the best husband that she could have ever wished for. She told him she regretted nothing, that if she had been lucky enough to have her time again she wouldn’t have changed anything, except maybe the whole wedding exploding and weeks spent lost in the bush! She told him that their children were blessed because he was their father and that she never worried for them as she knew he would bring them through it all and that he would raise their children in a way she would be proud of. At this her steady voice began to break, her tears choking her. She explained that she swore she wouldn’t do this and apologised again. She said she was sorry that she couldn’t stay with him, how she had longed to grow old with him and how hard it was to have it snatched away. She told him not be bitter or angry however hard it seemed. They had been blessed with a few years of happiness and love that some people never experienced in a lifetime. The way she said it made it sound like they were the lucky ones. Suddenly she turned her head, listening intently. She hurriedly explained that he had returned home and she had to go as she couldn’t spoil the surprise. Bringing the camera closer to her face she kissed the lens and wiped it quickly, ending with a whispered,

‘I love you Jack Holden, always’

Then the screen faded to black and she was gone. After the tenth time of watching the DVD Jack could cry no more, he felt empty, broken and so unbelievably tired. With the film still playing in the background Jack was lulled into a dreamless sleep by the hushed tones of his beautiful wife.

[Clair 247]

Thankyou all again for your comments, they are so kind! Also congratulations to 'Glowing Angel' for her 300 posts, you're probably nearer 400 by the time I write this though! Honoured to have your 300th post on my thread! Here's the next installment, enjoy!

Chapter Fourteen

That night had been the turning point for Jack, at least one of them. The very next day he had put the DVD back inside the chest and systematically started to clear away all Martha’s things. Unable to part with them he boxed them neatly and placed them in the attic until the time came to give them away for good.

Ten years had passed and the attic no longer contained the boxes, a few items had remained special things of hers that Jack had kept for the sake of his children. Mia was now twelve years old and still as stubborn and chatty as she had ever been, more and more like her mother everyday in looks and temperament. She was the apple of her father’s eye, a cherished reminder of his beloved Martha. She had limited memories of her mother, something that pained her greatly so she took great joy in treasuring all her mother had left behind. She and her brother shared a beautiful relationship, a great friendship and a bond that no one could break. Matt was quieter than Mia, gentle and studious. At ten years old he was proving to be a keen student not in necessarily in academic subjects but with his hands. Interested in all things mechanical, electronics, cars, plumbing, wood or metal he loved it all. Clearly he had inherited his mother’s skills and loved to use them at any given opportunity. So alike his father in looks, Jack could see what others could not, Martha was in his mannerisms, in his facial expressions, the way he poked his tongue out when concentrating on a difficult problem and raised his eyebrows when annoyed. He couldn’t remember his mother at all and loved to pore over pictures of just him and her. His favourite was Martha holding a freshly washed baby Matthew bundled up in a fluffy white towel. She was kissing his forehead, completely unaware that Jack was taking her picture, the look of love he captured between mother and son was palpable and Matthew found great comfort in the photograph. Jack was proud of his children, proud of how they had come through life as Martha had wanted, not bitter and angry at their mother’s death but more compassionate and aware of others pain and heartache. They were a credit to her and while she hadn’t been there to bring them up she was evident in every area of their lives.

Jack too had changed in those years. He was older, wiser and as the pain of losing Martha had dimmed a little with time, happier too. He took great delight in his children, nurturing the parts of them that echoed Martha, determined that she should be a very real part of them. He had followed Martha’s instructions for him and the children to the letter, taken them to all the places she had wanted them to go. He had collected photographs and mementos of these trips and kept them together in the chest Martha had made him all those years ago. There was only one command that Jack couldn’t obey, that had remained unchecked on the list still in the wooden box in the wardrobe. Jack had never found another woman to love as Martha had wished for him. For a long time he had used the children as an excuse, claiming that all his time, energy and love needed to be focused on them as he was now acting as both a mother and father to them but as time had gone on his excuses lost their value. Now ten years on Jack was dating for the first time and finding it far harder than he had ever anticipated.

[Clair 247]

Thanks again for all your kind comments, they are all so sweet thankyou! Will stop blabbing on now and get on with the chapter! Here we go... Enjoy! (Sorry they're getting shorter again!)

Chapter Fifteen

The object of Jack’s affection these days (if you could call it that) was Lara Fitzgerald. Fellow police officer and great friend Lara too had lost her spouse. Her husband had also been a police officer and had tragically lost his life not long after Martha had died, cruelly stabbed by a criminal they were trying to apprehend. Jack and Lara had leant on each other during these tragic times, relying on the other’s friendship and support, both consumed with the grief of losing their loved ones. Neither saw the other as anything more than a friend.

About six years down the line an eight-year-old Mia had forced the issue. While telling her Daddy that she knew he still loved Mummy very much, did he think he could love Lara just a little bit so she could have another girl in the house? Children just have a way of telling it like it is. Jack hadn’t realised that his children had missed a female presence or perspective as much. He had always given everything for his children, genuinely thinking he had the ‘Mum’ and ‘Dad’ roles covered as best he could. He did care for Lara; he knew that much and he supposed he did love her in a friendly, familiar kind of way, which was not a bad platform for a relationship. Egged on by his young daughter Jack had plucked up the courage and asked Lara out, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Jack and Lara had taken it slowly, using the children as their excuse, although in reality it was their own hearts that were the problem. Both were unavoidably and unashamedly in love with their first wife and husband respectively. As the years passed their relationship grew, both giving a little more of themselves. They did fall in love, just not in the way they had once loved their dead spouses. They recognised this in each other, knowing that neither could give the other the kind of love they had once experienced. It was a relationship of convenience, a good relationship, a caring relationship but convenient for both all the same.

[Clair 247]

Little bit longer this chapter, but quite a dull one, I'm afraid! Just a bit of information and explanantion. Hope it doesn't bore you all! Thanks again for all the great comments, you're all so nice!

Chapter Sixteen

Four years later and they were still together. Lara had moved in just eighteen months earlier but marriage was never on the cards. Jack just couldn’t bear to say those vows to anyone else but Martha. He had meant every word then and saying them again felt wrong. Lara too, had no desire to marry again, so they existed together being the other’s support and comfort but never their true love. That ship had well and truly sailed. Lara had undoubtedly been good for the children too. Neither called her ‘Mum’ having more of a close friendship than anything else. While it hadn’t been easy at times, this makeshift family worked and kept Jack a little from the intense loneliness he still felt in the middle of the night.

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Fifty long years had passed since that Thursday afternoon Martha had passed away, leaving her husband and young children behind. Jack was now an old man of seventy seven, a grandfather and great-grandfather-to-be. Retired now, Jack spent his days at home often busying himself with his own chores and helping out others less fortunate than himself. Active and fit, Jack still liked to walk along the beach daily often visiting Martha at the cliff top and revelling in the closeness he still felt there. Sometimes it really felt like she was there with him.

Mia was now a middle-aged woman, married with two children of her own. She had followed in her father’s footsteps in a way, becoming and working as a paramedic, serving the community through the emergency services. Her husband Lachlan was a detective in the police, even working under Jack’s supervision for a short time in the early years of his career. Their children, son Benjamin and daughter Emily were good kids, now in their twenties themselves. Ben had followed his father and grandfather into the police force and forging a good career for himself. The apple of his parents’ eyes, Ben had fulfilled all their wishes and was all they had ever wanted him to be. Emily was the rebel of the family, flighty, stubborn, independent, argumentative and full of fun. She could never stick to anything, changing jobs as often as she changed her clothing. In her Jack saw Martha and Mia all rolled into one. He adored her and she him. Often having little time or regard for anyone but her beloved granddad. It was Emily in fact that would be giving Jack his very first great-grandchild. Emily had gone to university in the city, leaving her family home behind. She had fallen into a bad crowd while there with one guy in particular treating her pretty badly, hurting her in every possible way. She had fallen pregnant to him eight months ago and it had been the wake-up call she had needed. These last few months she had worked harder than she had ever done in her life and all for the sake of the baby she was now close to giving birth to.

Matthew, Jack and Martha’s second child had also done well for himself. Now at fifty years of age he was happily married to wife Sian, proud father to daughter Jasmine and the owner of his very own electrical company. Using his skills no doubt inherited from his mother he had built up a successful business. But his pride and joy were his beautiful wife and daughter. After nearly losing them both in a difficult labour Matt had cherished each day he had with his family. While Jasmine had her mother’s looks she most definitely had her father’s personality and temperament. Jasmine was now in the city training to become a doctor to the delight of her proud parents. Just as he could see Martha in Matt’s mannerisms and expressions, Jack could see his beloved Martha in Jasmine also. She was there in the way she gave her all for every patient and how she took care of the little; some would say insignificant things, sometimes making a huge difference to their treatment and lives. Though Martha had been alive for such a small part of her children’s lives she was so evident in them and their children in turn. It was a great comfort to Jack, she had got her wish.

[Clair 247]

Sorry about the big jump in time guys, guess what happens in those years will have to be another story altogether! Also as you will read, Lara's still here, sorry I didn't make that clear! Only a few chapters to go now, enjoy!

Chapter Seventeen

Jack rolled over onto his side, knocking Lara’s elbow as he did so. He smiled to himself. It never ceased to amaze him that after all these years he and Lara still felt new at this. Jack and Lara had spent nearly their whole lives together, compared to the few short years he had spent with Martha yet he and Martha had just ‘fitted’, truly the other half to each other. Fitting neatly together like the pieces of a jigsaw. Her hand had fitted perfectly in his; his lips fitted the mould of hers, the curve of her spine fitting neatly into his body when led on their sides in bed. He and Lara just didn’t, it was as simple as that.

His thoughts drifted back to Martha as he led there in bed. In his mind he replayed the scenes from the few short years he had spent with Martha by his side. Scenes that had taken place in this very room. He remembered how it had felt the very first night they had spent here together, how they had made love, passionately, tenderly and certainly more than once! He remembered how uncomfortable Martha had been while pregnant with their children, how when she couldn’t get comfortable enough to sleep they would spend the night talking about nothing in particular instead. He recalled the sleepless nights they had also spent together when the babies were born, how ridiculously beautiful she had still looked when surviving on just three hours of broken sleep. And finally he remembered how she had taken her last breath here in this very room. How she had led on his chest, her hands entwined in his own. She hadn’t been afraid, that’s what had struck him, she hadn’t been frightened at all. He had been. He hadn’t wanted to ever let her go, thinking that if he could have just held on she might come back to him or let him go with her. He hadn’t moved for over an hour after she had breathed her last breath. He had disentangled the fingers of one hand and had spent the hour stroking her face gently, memorising every detail. She had looked so peaceful, like she was sleeping. Her face engrained forever in his heart and mind. People often say that as the years pass the faces of the ones you have loved and lost get blurry. Unable to remember every little detail about them, their faces go out of focus a little in your mind, not as clear and defined as they once were. It hadn’t happened to Jack. He could still picture Martha as clear as day, the exact colour of her eyes, the shape of her nose, the taste of her lips. It was all there in his mind, as if it had all happened just yesterday. Sometimes he was even sure he could smell her scent in the house, hear her whisper his name in the night. In fact, he could hear her now, he was sure of it.

[Clair 247]

Glad you all liked the last chapter, hope you like this next one as much! Getting near the end now, just three chapters left I think! Enjoy and thanks again for all your beautiful comments!

Chapter Eighteen

He sat up as quickly as his old, tired body would let him and listened intently. Fiddling with his hearing aid he heard it again, her voice as clear as his own. She was calling his name, calling him to her. Jack felt suddenly tired. Unable to sit any longer he started to fall back on the bed. Then he felt it, strong, caring arms lowering him gently back, cradling his back, shoulders and head. As he opened his eyes he saw her, sitting there right behind him, his head now resting gently in her lap. She smiled sweetly at him, the love evident in her eyes. Leaning down she kissed his forehead tenderly, her long, dark hair trailing gently across his face. She smelt exactly as he had remembered. A scent he had longed to recreate for years, yet finding the task impossible. A perfect blend of the perfume she wore, shampoo she used, of freshly made coffee and pancakes, washing powder and baby lotion. Her hand found his, resting gently on his chest, over his heart, their fingers entwined together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, a perfect fit. Jack smiled back at her, he was home now. He had finally made it home.

********************************************

It feels strange to be in my grandfather’s house without him in it. It just doesn’t feel right. It hasn’t since he passed away three and a half years ago. Now my grandmother (the only one I have ever known) has also gone, leaving the house finally empty. The house has been left to both my mother and my uncle and as they’re organising to sell it, we grandchildren have been instructed to collect anything we wanted to keep to remind ourselves of them. As usual I had arrived last, long after Ben and Jasmine have been and gone, though I have to say I blame my son for this! He’s three and a half years old now, unbelievably, born just weeks after Granddad died. It had been so hard those first few months, me a single mother with a screaming newborn baby and grieving and hurting from the loss of my beloved grandfather. He really was the only one who truly understood me, listened to me. My mother and I are just too alike to get along well, forever rubbing each other up the wrong way, always knowing exactly which buttons to press. My granddad had cherished my faults, saying that I reminded him of my real grandmother, a woman I never met. I know her name, it’s incorporated in my own ‘Emily Martha’ and I know her face, it’s like mine, mirrored too in my son’s but I don’t really know who she was and that hurts more than I can tell you. Suddenly I can’t bear to be here any longer, the emptiness of the house almost suffocating me. I call out into the garden for my son,

‘Come on Jack!’ Let’s head down to the beach’.

[Clair 247]

Never seen so many people happy that our beloved Jack has left this world! I didn't think I could end it any other way. This is the penultimate chapter and it's pretty short, just trying to tie up loose ends. Enjoy! (Oh, and thankyou for all those beautiful comments again!)

Chapter Nineteen

I never, ever get tired of the beach. It’s my favourite place in the entire world because it is always the same. It never changes. No matter the events of the day whether good or bad, the sea is indifferent. The waves will never stop hitting the shore. There’s another reason I love it here too, a part of my grandfather’s ashes were sprinkled here at this very beach. It’s like I can feel him here, almost hear his voice in the wind and waves. He, like my grandmother before him, had been spread at different locations, here on this beach, at the cliff top with my grandmother and also buried beside her in the churchyard where they married all those years ago. Inseparable, even in death. I sit myself down, enjoying the feel of the sand between my toes. Jack and I live in the city now so we don’t get to make it to the beach very much. It’s a treat for both him and me. My eyes follow him now, my beloved son. Looking at the trail of footprints he has left weaving through the sand I can’t believe how big he’s got; it seems just yesterday he was a helpless newborn baby cradled in my arms. He’s like me; too like me, though I’m grateful he isn’t like his father. In him I see all the faults I see in myself, my short temper, my impatience and inability to stick at any one task. Faults that drove my own mother and father to distraction but my grandfather cherished. I’m like her apparently, so like her. While everyone else saw my stubbornness he saw my unswerving will to never give up. When everyone else saw my impatience and going into tasks like a bull in a china shop, he saw the fight and fire in me to always do what I think is right. My grandfather loved me for being me, because I didn’t give in or conform to what anyone else thought I should do apparently my grandmother thought this too, and lets be honest, she was right, it’s the only way to live.

[Clair 247]

Here's the last chapter to 'Daddy's Kisses' guys, it has all come to an end! I hope you all have enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! Thankyou so much to all those that wrote such beautiful comments and stuck with it throughout. Thankyou. And now, for the last time I will write, enjoy!

Chapter Twenty

Right now my son is settling down just a few metres in front of me, a little closer to the shore. He has his bucket and spades and appears to be digging a hole of some kind, though how long he will stick to this task is anyone’s guess! He has also gained a little friend, a young girl who looks to be around the same age as him. This is Jack all over, so unbelievably personable, making friends with everyone wherever he goes. It’s one of the things I love in him, one of the things that remind me so much of my grandfather, his namesake. From my vantage point further up the beach I can see that Jack is beginning to boss the little girl around, trying no doubt to get her to do the jobs that he doesn’t fancy himself. Slowly I get to my feet, ready to walk down to the shore and intervene but to my surprise the little girl is apparently having none of it, giving Jack as good as she’s getting. Smiling, I realise that my son has clearly met his match. Sitting back down I lose myself once again in the sand and sea and my son.

As I glance down at my watch a little later I realise that once again I am late. My parents still live here in Summer Bay and Jack and I are supposed to be joining them, my elder brother Ben and his new fiancée at the house I grew up in for dinner. Brushing the sand from my feet I reluctantly put my shoes on, clasping in my free hand my son’s shoes and sweatshirt.

‘Jack! Time to go baby, we’re late’.

To my surprise he comes, clearly this little girl has him rattled. I watch him say a hurried goodbye and come running up the beach, bucket and spades flapping in the breeze behind him. Taking the bucket and spades into my own hand I proceed to put the sweatshirt over his head, negotiating the hat he refuses to take off. With all our junk in one hand and my son’s sandy hand in the other, we eventually set off at a snails pace back up the beach. Glancing down at Jack I realise he is filthy and smile, I was just like that at his age. His shorts are damp and caked in sand, his freshly washed sweatshirt somehow grubby in the two minutes it has been on him. He has sand in his hair and a dirty mark across his right cheek from goodness only knows.

‘So…’ I begin, ‘who were you playing with down by the sea, honey?’

The detailed reply I receive is, ‘Just a girly’.

‘I could see that Jack, but what was her name? Didn’t you ask her what her name was?’ I say frustrated.

At this my son scowls and looks up at me in annoyance. I smile in response seeing one of my own well-used expressions reflected in his face, taken aback he also smiles, squeezing my hand just a little tighter.

‘She said she was a Martha, Mummy, you know like I’m a Jack? She’s just Martha’.

*THE END *

Written in loving memory of Allyson. Loved and lost to breast cancer too. Miss you everyday xxx

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