It was a day much like the one in her memory, a day that was fifty years into the past. The sun was shining brightly and while most of the country battled the harsh winter cold, Palm Beach was contently celebrating Christmas with a pleasant 74 degrees. A small, frail lady slowly made her way along a path that was overgrown with weeds. She carried with her as always, a single rose, and her gardening tools. She was a determined woman and would not let anything keep her from taking care of his grave, not the arthritis, nor the fact that it was becoming harder to lower herself. His grave would be attended to; it was the only way she could show her love for him.
This was the only place where she felt she could be herself, and she had found many years of solace here. She knew he wasn't really there, but this was her retreat, where she could give her soul a recharge when needed. At one time it had been the beach, where she would go, but now she found too many memories there. While she was fond of the memories she had, she could only handle a few at a time, not the assault she faced on the beach.
The woman kneeled on the grave and began to talk as she went about her task. She told him about the upcoming wedding of Samantha, their oldest grandchild. She would be marrying a young doctor named Brian. Samantha's father was the typical "father of the bride" on one hand complaining about wedding costs, on the other, distraught over loosing his baby girl
Christopher Jr., her pride and joy, her son. She loved him dearly and was very proud of the man he had become, now almost fifty years old, himself. She had raised him by herself, often worried that he needed more then just her. He did have Cap, and George in his life, to help guide him, and at one time, she had almost married a man named Matt, to give her eleven-year-old son a father.
Somehow Chris had known that while she cared deeply for Matt, she didn't really love him. He had pleaded with her not to marry Matt, just for his sake. It wasn't because Chris didn't like him either, because they got along very well, and kept in touch up until Matt had died. Matt understood when she told him she couldn't marry him, that it wouldn't be fair to him if she did. As the years went by, she never found another love, as all her friends urged her to do. She told herself that she was too busy raising her son, but the real reason was that she had closed off that part of her life. She would never allow herself to love anyone that much ever again, except for their son.
She looked back on her life with no regrets though, because she had gone on after her husband was killed. At first she had left Palm Beach to escape her memories, but she found they followed her wherever she went. She felt even worse being away from Palm Beach, away from her friends. Harry and Fran Lipschitz were like parents to her, and she missed them the most. When she had called them to inform them of Christopher's birth, she broke down crying just hearing their voices. The next day she was face to face with them, and they were insisting she come back to Palm Beach where she belonged. They wanted to help raise their godson, and she couldn't argue with them, and really didn't want to anyway. It wasn't easy at first, but she soon had settled into a steady way of life. She took a teaching position at the PBPD Academy, and devoted herself to her son. She became overprotective and doted on her son, much to her sons despair, but after a talk from Harry, she settled down some. As he got older, their roles seemed to change.
Chris loved his mom, and became all that his father would have wanted, the man of the house. He looked after his mother, yet he also had his own life, she made sure of that. Chris was quite the basketball player, and he won full scholarships all through college, and then went on to law school. He met and married a lovely girl, named Sara and they gave her three perfect grandchildren. Now he was a respected judge. Some who knew his father would think it funny that he would become a lawyer, but she had understood. He was looking for some relief through justice. The day he had really understood what happened to his father, a spark was ignited. That spark would grow each occasion of a Fathers day, or a father & son event, until it was a burning flame of passion. He became a prosecutor, and then a DA, much to the delight of his Uncle
George. If only they could see him now, she thought.
Harry, Fran, and George were gone now also. Harry and Fran had been killed in a plane crash, going together. They never had to face being without the other, and she was glad for that. George had died of cancer, several years later. George had become her new best friend, knowing he could never replace her old one. She had been with him when he left the earth. Trying to cheer her up, he had smiled at her, telling her they would all be waiting for her in Heaven. Then he said " even Chris " as he gave out his final chuckle. It was his last joke before a calm surrender took over his smile. She missed them all very much. She retired fifteen years ago, and put all her energy into her remaining family and volunteering at two places.
She went on talking to her husband, and finished her task. She told him about their wonderful grandchildren, and what they were up to. Samantha, the oldest would be marrying soon. She had been named to honor the nicknames her grandparents had used with each other. Then came James, named for Sara's father, and the middle name of his grandpa, Chris Sr. Stephanie Rita was the baby, and as hard as she tried to, she couldn't escape them naming the baby with her name as the middle. James would be graduating college in another year, and he planned on following in his grandparents' footsteps. He wanted to be a homicide cop. He had always loved hearing the stories she told him about the cases they worked on. Stephanie wasn't sure what to pursue, but she showed some interest in her sister's career choice, teaching elementary school. It was another thought to make her laugh, an old joke. Too old, she thought. It was time to head back home now. She lovingly traced her husbands name on the tombstone, then blew him a kiss, saying " see yaaa." She slowly and painfully arose and followed the worn path out of the cemetery, and walked home.
Entering the front door of Chris' home, where she now lived, she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. The house was quiet, as everyone was either at work or school. Chris had insisted on her moving in with him and his family when she turned eighty. She had argued with him saying she could take care of herself just fine, thank you, and she was probably healthier then he was. She did get him to admit that she was in great shape. Her only problem was a little arthritis, and considering the bruising career she had in her youth, that was most likely to be expected. Her mind was as sharp as ever, and she could still hold up her end of any argument, much to her son's dismay. All he wanted from her was to ease up a little on the activities she involved herself in to stay busy. She volunteered at a homeless shelter, and at the children's wing of the local hospital.
Chris loved his mother, and he worried over her, but he knew he could not change her. She would do what she wanted. He often tried to see his mother as his father must have seen her, and he realized she was an amazing woman. It made him understand his father just a little bit more.
His father had truly loved her and the baby she was carrying...him. He had been killed protecting them, taking the deadly bullets that cost him his life, to save hers. He knew the story by heart, dreamed it in his sleep sometimes. His mother wanted him to know why his father wasn't there for him. She wanted him to know that his daddy had loved him very much. When he was a little boy, she told him that his daddy was where it counted most, in his heart. He wanted to grow up to be just like his father, and it came very easy to him. He looked so much like him, even had his smile. Chris had discovered early in his life that it was his mother's weak spot. He could almost always get his way, just by flashing her his smile. That was how he finally got her to move in
She walked over to her closet, and took out the wedding gown. She had put many hours into making it, and she was proud of herself. She had never been very domesticated in her youth. She smiled; thinking that Samantha would be a beautiful bride. She hung the dress over her dresser mirror. She hadn't made any plans for today, and actually had given notice that she would not be volunteering any longer. She had said her good-byes to the children with tears in her eyes. They had their whole future ahead of them, and hers was behind her. It didn't really bother her; just made her a bit melancholy was all. She knew it was time now, and she didn't like the thought of anyone being sad just because she was leaving. She took out a piece of the rose stationary her son had given her for her birthday, and wrote a letter. She slipped it into the matching envelope, and set it on her dresser near the wedding gown. Then she took the picture of the handsome young man, her beloved husband, and went to lie down on her bed. Within minutes, the walk she had taken earlier had made her drowsy. She looked longingly at her husband's picture, and smiled as she closed her eyes.
He was there waiting for her, as she knew he would be. He wore the smile she had always
loved, and held his arms out for her. She went to him and they embraced each other. "You did good Sammy. I am so proud of you!"
"It was hard sometimes, Chris, I didn't think I could"
"I know Sammy, I know...but I was there with you all the time, just as I promised I would be."
"I know...I felt you with me.it helped me to go on, to raise our son." "Our son, Sammy, you were wonderful with him, and with our grandchildren also...we made them happen, they are the future, and we will go on through them. Now it is time for you to rest. You have finished there, and now we can be together again. Always "
"I know, Chris, I knew that I would see you today"
"You did, did you? Well, little miss smarty-pants; please tell me how you knew this hmmm..."he said with a smirk.
"I just had a hunch, and you know my hunches are never wrong, now don't you Sam?"
"Ahhh, you had a hunch, huh? Will I ever figure you out? " He laughed.
"Well you didn't in that life time, did you? Cheer up Sam, and don't sulk, it's not becoming
besides, maybe you'll get it the next time..." she teased him, as a spark that had been missing for a long time, brightly reappeared in her eyes.
The Great Creator of the Universe stood near by, with all their family and friends who had come before or after them. They listened to the two as they took up right where they left off. Shaking his head, Harry said, "Do you see what I've had to put up with? It's the same way all the time...." he smiled, "I am so glad that their half souls finally came together, after all their lifetimes they've had. Now maybe we'll all be able to have some peace round here" The Great Creator smiled back at Harry, as he talked about two of his favorite soul mates.
"Peace? Well at least they will have peace, and harmony, I don't know about the rest of us."
Chris kept his arm around his beautiful young wife, as he spoke softly to her. "Come, Sammy there are some others who have been waiting for you also." He gently led the way. She saw so many people, some of whom she had known for only a few brief moments, but whose life she had somehow touched. Then she saw Harry, Fran, and George. Her foster parents, the Lances, were there as well. Then she saw her father and went to him with tears in her eyes
"I am so sorry, baby", he said to her, as he embraced his daughter. All was forgiven already though. After hugging all who had met her there, she turned to Chris, and he led her to one other person, a woman. She had never met her, but she knew this was her mother. The woman outstretched her arms towards her, and for the first time, mother and daughter embraced.
It had been a tough morning for him. He had just buried his mother, reuniting her at his father's side, where she belonged. He came to her room to find some solace, feeling guilty because she had been all alone. When he had gotten home from work he thought she was napping, but she had never awoke for dinner. The medical examiner said she died peacefully in her sleep, and for that he was grateful. Sitting on the bed, he saw a letter addressed to him in his mother's handwriting. He opened it, his hand trembling as he read his mothers last words to him. They began with a poem.
God shattered my plate glass-life He then took the broken pieces and made them into Wind Chimes.
My dear sweet Christopher, you were the first musical note that I heard of that windchime. It was because of you that I was able to hear the other notes, and they were all beautiful together. You have made me so proud of the man you have become. It is time now for me to leave you but please do not mourn my passing. I can feel your father so close now, and I am anxious to be with him once again. Besides you, nothing could make me happier then I am at this moment, because I am with him now. There was a day in my life when I didn't think I could go on without my husband. When you came to me, I knew I could. You have been a wonderful son, and I want to thank you for all the love and joy you brought into my life. I am with your father now, and we are both watching over you, and all of our family. Please tell Samantha that we will see her marry her Brian. that we will be with you all always, until the time comes for you to each join us. Do not fear when that time comes, my precious son, for we will be there for you with open arms. I know how you have missed having your father in your life, as I have missed my mother in mine, but the day will come when you will meet him and all those that you have lost in your lifetime.
You will see me again, so do not waste a moment in grief. It is a hard lesson to learn, and some of us learn to it too late. Always cherish every moment you have with those you love. I have.
Your loving mother.
Chris closed his eyes, whispering a silent prayer. He knew she was at peace now, her heart was once again whole. He could not mourn for her any longer, not when she was where she belonged. She had given him her whole life, and given so much to others also. He would miss her, but he knew that he would see her again someday. He carefully folded the letter, placing it back into the envelope, along with the newspaper clipping he had with him. It was her obituary.
Lt. Rita Lee Lance Lorenzo, died December 10, at home from natural causes. Born in Palm
Beach, she was the daughter of Donald and Amelia Fontana, and attended Florida State College.
After graduation, she worked at the PBPD working her way up to LT, in the homicide division before taking a teaching position with the PBPD Police Academy. Mrs. Lorenzo is preceded in death by her parents and by her husband, St Christopher James Lorenzo, killed in the line of duty, on December 17, 1995. Mrs. Lorenzo was a member of St Luke's Church on Palm Drive, and a volunteer at several local shelters during her lifetime. She was also a member of the PTA at Ocean View Elementary while her son attended there, and a den mother for Boy Scout Troop 1108 for several years. A son, Christopher Lorenzo Jr., and three grandchildren, Samantha, James and Stephanie survive Mrs. Lorenzo.
As Chris stood up to leave the room, he could swear he heard the soft tinkling of a windchime. Funny, he thought we don't have any Wind Chimes. He heard it again, and he decided to go out and buy some. They really were beautiful.
OK, I guess I have to do this, so I don't get sued, not that I have anything of value that anyone would really want... just a house that needs lots of work, which we are currently fixing up, but if they want it, there are days I wouldn't mind giving it away! Anyway here goes... Chris, Rita, Harry, Fran, ad George are not mine, we all know they belong to Stu Segall, and all those associated with the creation of the TV show Silk Stalkings. Also all the other characters I forgot, like Donald Fontana, and maybe Amelia. I got that name from somewhere, and I thank whoever it was, for not being mad I borrowed that name. (Please let me know who you are though) All the other characters are in my imagination, except for my dear sweet grandmother, who recently passed away, giving me the idea of this point of view. I dedicate this to her, because she was a real special and amazing woman, and I loved her a lot. Nanny, I am happy you are finally with your husband, my grandfather, who I have never met, because he died of a heart attack before I was born. Well hope that covers everything. This is my very first fanfic, and I have lots more stories inside my head just waiting for release so let me know what you think, honestly, because I am not afraid of the truth. Should I write more or just be content reading the fanfic work by others?