A/N: Guess what? i don't own Twilight! This is just a story that has been floating around in my head. Tissues at the ready people!
Final stage. The nurse had said my Mom, Renée, was in the final stage. I didn't really need her to tell me that I could see it for myself. Mom was diminishing more each day.
It had been a long road. She was diagnosed with Cancer two years ago and after surgery and chemo we thought we'd won. She was well for a bit but then it was back.
We always talk about Cancer like it's an enemy we are trying to out-think or outmaneuver. Like that swedish movie 'The Seventh Seal' or 'Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey" where Death plays chess. Unfortunately, Cancer is winning and we are losing Renee.
A year ago the doctors confirmed what we already suspected, despite the surgery, despite the aggressive chemotherapy treatments Cancer was back and back to stay.
She started to feel tired again, worse than the first time. She needed afternoon naps and was short-tempered. Mom was a lot of crazy things but she was never mean or bad-tempered, but Cancer knew what it was doing.
Of course it had spread because like the smart opponent it is, instead of going away Cancer had been hiding, waiting to strike. It started in her breast, then her lungs and finally her liver.
Cancer was back and although she kept up her spirits for a while, as the news got worse and Cancer spread through more of her body Mom gave up the fight. All her spirit had gone into fighting it the first time and we thought we'd won, realising we hadn't was too much for her.
The day we heard the word "terminal" for the first time was a doozy. Phil went quiet and didn't talk for hours where Mom didn't stop, just chatted and chatted and chatted. I think she was so overwhelmed she just didn't know how to react and Phil's silence just made her talk more.
I just sat in the back of the car and then when we got home I sat in the kitchen, nodding when Mom needed me to and adding a yes or a no as appropriate. She wasn't listening she was babbling.
My ears pricked up however when she mentioned my dad. "I think you should go and live with Charlie." she said. Was she serious? I turned to Phil pleading with my eyes for him to stop that idea in its tracks. He looked at me with such sadness, I had to look away. Poor Phil, he was going to lose his wife. No, I couldn't go anywhere I had to stay here and help my Mom and help Phil.
"No Mom, I am staying here with you" I said quietly but firmly.
"That's right Renée" Phil added, "she's staying."
And that was that. For six months after that I managed to stay in school and help out at home. My social life, such as it was, came to a complete standstill and my friends drifted away one by one. I couldn't blame them really. Death is a sad thing but dying is a lonely thing.
For the next 5 months Mom diminished progressively and for the past month she has not left her bed.
I changed to home-schooling, keeping up with my education was the one positive I had managed to hold on to. As there was no one really to home-school me, I was teaching myself. Dad called every day which was great. He told me that he was ready for me when the time comes. A nice way of saying when Mom was dead. He lives in Forks which is a very long way from Phoenix but I saw that as a good thing, to start over somewhere new.
I worried about Phil though. He has family in Chicago so I knew he'd probably head there 'when the time came'. Phoenix was Mom's dream, not his. He was only here to make her happy.
We had home help nurses who came in each day to help with bathing and lifting Mom. I looked after the house and saw to Mom while Phil was at work. Mostly I read to Mom and chatted to her in her lucid moments which are became fewer and fewer.
The worst part was a sad sort of quiet had descended. Have you ever been to a funeral home? Even when there is no funeral going on, everyone speaks in hushed tones and whispers. That's what we did. Phil and I barely spoke above a whisper and worst of all we talked about mom in the 3rd person like she'd already left us, which in a way I guess she had.
The days got harder. Mom was coming out of it less and less and that's when the home nurses warned me that she was in the final stage.
Phil had moved into the spare room two months ago at which point I'd moved a cot into her room for me to sleep on, so I could hear her when she needed me. We'd had quite a few bad nights, I suppose Cancer doesn't really know or care about bed times.
The medication regime had increased to the point where they knocked her out but at least she wasn't in pain.
I had been looking through Mom's photo albums. She'd gone through a scrapbooking phase, one of her many phases, and she'd started putting together all these photo albums. None of them were finished so I thought it would be fun to finish them and chat to Mom as I was doing it.
It was odd to see her tiny, diminished frame lying in the middle of this huge bed surrounded by old photos, glue and glittery markers. It was surreal.
I'd finished two of the albums when I started working on the last one. The first two were easy as they were of me as a baby and my early school years. HOwever, typical the third one had the least completed and that was because it was of her life. I had a lovely time going through them, trying to work out who every one was and where they were taken.
When awake and lucid Mom had told me how glad she was that I was doing the albums. She didn't want my memory of her to be of her dying but of living. I knew I wanted that too but it was a hard thing to imagine at that particular point.
Then in the middle of one night, Mom cried out, her body was being attacked by an onslaught of heart-breaking pain. She was wracked by spasms but no amount of twisting or writhing would repel Cancer's cruelty. Phil had rushed into the room and like me, he was mortified that Renée was in so much pain and we could do nothing to help. Mercifully her body used its last defensive move against Cancer and Mom slipped into a coma.
Her breathing was so light it was hard to tell if she was breathing at all. We each held her hand grateful she had stilled. Eventually Phil made his way back to his bed, sad and defeated. I dropped off to sleep holding my mother's hand.
I became aware that Mom had gone very still. I sat up panicked thinking she had died and I wasn't there for her but I was relieved to find that she was still breathing. I realised it was morning but later than when I usually woke up. Phil should already be at work but it sounded like he was doing something in the kitchen, cupboards were opening and shutting as though he was looking for something.
I went down to the kitchen to help but it wasn't Phil. It was a young woman. She was around my age and height. She looked so familiar to me.
"There you are Belly boo" she said. What the hell? Who was this woman? Only my mother called me that and got away with it! "I want pancakes, don't you think pancakes sound like fun" she said.
"Oh Belly boo, won't you help me. You know how I hate to cook and you are so good at it. I haven't eaten anything in ages and I really want pancakes before I go." She said as she skipped over to the breakfast nook and sat down.
I don't know why but I didn't speak. I didn't ask her anything. I just started collecting what I needed to make pancakes, all the while watching this pretty young woman watching me.
"You know what we need to do? We need to put on some music!" she said gleefully as she jumped up and went over to the stereo. She found a CD and put it on. Debussy's Claire du Lune began to sound out from the stereo and she returned to the breakfast nook.
"I love music. It reminds me that there is beauty in this sometimes ugly life. You should play more music Belly boo." she said.
I looked up from the batter I had made and looked at her. She looked like me. She looked like Mom. "Renée?" I asked.
"Yes Belly boo. What do you need love?" she answered.
It was Renée but as she looked at 17. I left the kitchen and rushed to my mother's bedroom. There she lay quiet and still but still breathing. I sighed in relief.
"Won't be long now" said the young woman who had obviously followed me. "So much pain, it will be a relief to go. You're the only thing stopping that."
"What?" I cried. "I don't want my mother to be in pain. I just don't want her to die, is that so wrong?" tears were flowing down my face as I spoke.
"Of course not love" she said, curling my hair in her fingers as Mom always did. "It's just time to go soon."
"C'mon" she laughed, "let's go have pancakes" she smiled a broad grin and I followed her back to the kitchen.
"You cook, I'll talk. How about that?" she said. I nodded and started to heat my favourite pancake pan.
"I have no regrets my Isabella. I have had a good life. I had a great childhood, your grandparents are waiting for me you know, so you don't have to worry. I won't be alone."
I nodded as I poured the batter into the pan and she continued as I cooked up a stack of chocolate pancakes. They were Renee's favourite.
"I fell in love with Charlie. I had you - that's the best thing that happened in my whole life, I want you to know that. It didn't work between Charlie and me but I never stopped loving him, don't tell Phil that will you. Phil is a good and sweet man but he's no Charlie."
She smiled at me and sighed "Actually I do have one regret. I loved Charlie, we were having problems because of where we lived, but I wasn't honest with him. I told him I didn't love him anymore, I took you and left. But the truth was I should've told him what I needed, we should've worked it out."
I placed the pancakes in front of her and she smiled a happy childish smile.
She picked up her knife and fork and eat everything on her plate. "Thanks Belly boo, you always were a great cook, just like Grandma Swan." I beamed at her with the compliment because Grandma Swan was a fantastic cook and I loved to spend time with her in her kitchen.
"Yes, as soon as I left Charlie I wanted to come back. But I was afraid of what people would say and I was too proud." She said thoughtfully.
She looked me in the eye then and said "Isabella, you have been such a good daughter." My head bowed and tears poured down my cheeks. She reached across and lifted my chin so that I was looking in her eyes as she continued "It is your turn now love. You go and live with Charlie. You start a new life in a new place. Promise me that you will listen to music, that you will act on what your heart wants and follow your dreams. That you will seize the day and enjoy life and love to the fullest. Will you promise me?"
I smiled saying "Yes Mom, I promise. I love you."
"I love you too. It's time now love."
I woke up by my dying mother's side, her hand still in mine. Her eyes were open and she looked at me softly. "I love you Belly boo. Remember your promise." she said. "I love you Mom, I'll remember" I replied and then her eyes closed and she was gone.
I sat a long time just looking at her. I looked down and there on the bed was a picture of the young woman, the young Renée who had been in my kitchen.
That was the photo I used for her funeral booklet. Phil and I arranged for chocolate pancakes to be served to all the guests at the wake and we played all Mom's favourite songs. It was lovely. Charlie came of course. Phil made sure Charlie had private time with Renée in the funeral home before the other guests were admitted. Charlie knelt at her coffin and wept, telling her that he always loved her and was sorry he didn't come after her and bring her back home.
Phil moved back to Chicago to his family and I moved in with Charlie in Forks, Washington.
We were quiet together. He was giving me space and time to adjust and I was doing the same for him. He'd lived alone for a long time, perhaps with the hope that one day his Renée would return.
But the world continues to turn and it was time for my first day at my new school. Charlie dropped me off in the police cruiser. I didn't care, it's not like no one knew who I was already. In such a small town everyone knew every one else's business.
I organised my classes and started my day. I met new people and tried my hardest to smile, make small talk and be friendly. Two girls Jessica and Angela had taken me under their wing, helping me from class to class and introducing me to teachers and students.
On the way to the cafeteria I found myself humming a familiar tune and I felt strangely happier than I'd felt for a long while. As I hummed this comforting tune, I began smiling at others first instead of waiting to see if they'd smile at me. What was that tune? It was so familiar.
A tall boy slowed as he went to walk past me. He stopped turned and smiled and said "Claire du Lune. You know Debussy?"
I smiled but said nothing.
He smiled back and then turned back to his friends heading in to the cafeteria.
It was Claire du Lune. My mother's favourite tune. How odd.
I followed the stream of students heading in to the cafeteria. I loaded my tray with the healthiest options I could from the limited range and once I'd paid for my food I scanned the room for somewhere to sit. There were lots of people looking at me, new girl at school. I don't suppose they get many new comers.
I was about to join Jessica and Angela who had signalled for me to join them, when I saw the boy who'd spoken to me outside. He was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen. Tall and lean, he walked confidently and with elegance. He had a mop of copperish hair on his head which looked like he'd been running his fingers through it all day. He caught my eye and smiled a half-smile. His green eyes sparkled. He was young and beautiful and full of life.
At that moment I remembered what young Renée had said to me in the kitchen. How she made me promise not to let any moment go, to seize my happiness and not to worry about what others may think.
So I put my tray down at Jess' table. I turned to the table where the beautiful boy was sitting and I walked towards him.
When I arrived at his table, he stood up looking at me with a slightly puzzled expression.
"Hello, I'm Edward Cullen" he said, with his hand out to shake mine.
I stepped closer and took his hand and laced my fingers through his. I reached up with my other hand to stroke his cheek and I leaned in to kiss him. I had never been kissed before and I didn't want to wait another moment. His lips were soft and sweet. He leaned his head away a moment but kept our hands joined and put his other hand in the small of my back to hold me gently against his body.
"Hello Edward, I'm Isabella Swan. I am very happy to meet you." I said quietly.
"I am very happy to meet you too Isabella. You don't know how long I've waited for you." he said so softly that only I could hear him. He smiled, tilted his head and kissed me just as gently as I had kissed him.
"Would you like to join me for lunch?" he asked. I nodded.
Still holding my hand with one hand and carrying his tray with the other, he walked me back to collect my tray from Jess' table. We moved to an empty table and sat down together.
All eyes were upon us and I didn't care.
He smiled at me and I smiled back at him. I also smiled at the memory of my mother. I committed in that moment to always remember her happy free spirit and her message to me to live and love each day to the fullest.
That's when my new life began.
A/N: Okay. Well I cried while writing it. I hope i didn't upset anyone too much but I thought it was a beautiful idea of a mother finding a way to leave a message with her daughter. *hugs* all.