They died within a few days of each other. Neither one was ill, just old. They both seem to know their time in this world was ending. Grandpapa Tietjens was the first to depart this world, quietly, in his sleep. His wife, Valentine, we called her Grandma Val, knew the moment he had gone.
He had always held her hand as they slept over the fifty plus years they had spent together. When her hand slipped from his grasp, she knew he was gone. Grandma Val lay in the bed with her lover's body in the soft glow of night side lamp, her frail body draped over his body as she silently wept. She did not notice me as I peered into the room to check on her when I heard her crying.
My name is Anastasia Clementine Tietjens. I am the great-granddaughter to Mr. and Mrs. Christopher Tietjens, the two most wonderful people on the planet. My father, Christopher was named after Grandpapa Tietjens, who is son of Grandpapa and Grandma Val's son, Daniel, a brave, honorable and heroic man. I am going to tell you their story, but first I have to tell you how I learned about Grandpapa and Grandma's great and courageous life together.
Morning came as it always had. The family seat at Groby in Yorkshire was a place of constant movement. Several generations of the Tietjens family lived at Groby now, some in the main house, others on homes they had built on the vast property. It was home regardless where you lived, and breakfast was always a grand affair. Grandpapa Tietjens was always at the table in the morning, Grandma Val serving and feeding me his food in a kind and gentle manner. Grandpapa had a stroke over ten years earlier, paralyzing the right side of his body. He had to learn how to do everything again, including how to speak, which he could do very well given his paralysis. Even in his weakened state, many had witnessed his grown sons and grandsons back down from an argument with Grandpapa. And while Grand papa's right side was paralyzed, his left was not, and in one particular argument not too long before his death, he had punched a much younger man with a vicious left hook that stunned everyone. It was quite funny watching Grandma Val admonish Grandpapa for his actions. We were never quite sure what happened, but Grand papa's processions of "he had it coming!" and deep chuckling under his breath were too much for Grandma Val, who stormed out of the room in irritation. Later on, in the evening, I was surprised to find Grandpapa and Grandma cuddled together on the settee in the library, giggling about the whole affair. Grandpapa had even but his left hand on Grandma's behind and they were kissing! At the time, this was shocking for a young girl of only seven years only, but now that I am of a more mature age of twelve, I now understand.
I was disappointed when I arrived in the dining room at Groby that Grandpapa Tietjens was not there yet. Nevertheless, I knew he and Grandma Val would be along shortly. I had pulled the high-back chair away from the table to make room for Grand papa's wheelchair. And I ran all the way to the entrance of the Groby front gate (quite a long way I might add) to pick up the newspaper for Grandpapa. I even wore a dress, since Grandma and Grandpapa preferred it to my bell-bottom jeans. They were soo old-fashioned.
People took their places around the table, not a care in the world. However, my young eyes spotted movement coming from the hallway. I saw Grandma Val walking slowly and serenely towards the dining room. She was fully dressed for the day, but Grandpapa was not with her. She always escorted him to the dining room in the morning, it was tradition; and there is one thing a Tietjens loves, its tradition.
I was the only one who saw her, everyone else engrossed in conversation. I dropped my buttered toast onto the plate and pushed away from the table. No one really noticed. I skipped towards Grandma Val, who gazed at me with sad eyes. My brow furrowed in concern at her look of sadness, but I decided I would cheer her up.
"Good Morning, Grandma Val! I saved you and Grandpapa a seat next to me. I even pulled the chair away from the table so Grand papa's wheelchair could be there! And I got the paper, so I can read it to Grandpapa!" I spoke too fast and breathlessly with anticipation. I just wanted to see Grandma Val smile. And she did smile, kinda, as she reaching down to take my hand. "You are a sweet child, Ana."
"You look sad. Why are you sad, Grandma Val?" I wondered as the soft, frail hand holding mine began to quiver with pent up emotion. I knew something bad had happened. My eyes peered around Grandma Val, looking for Grandpapa, who was never far behind, especially in the morning. "Where is Grandpapa?" My eyes filed with watery tears as I looked at my Grandma's softly wrinkled face.
"See hear. Take my hand, and help me to the dining room." She lightly squeezed my hand and we continued slowly towards the dining room. The tears in my eyes no longer unshed, but rolling down my face since I knew what was to come. The loyal servants of Groby were busy cleaning at the end of the hall, far away from dining room, watched curiously as my beloved Grandma Val and I slowly walked through the dining room archway. They too were surprised by Grandma Val's singular arrival, and they paused in their work, curious.
Much of the conversation in the dining area hushed as we entered, and then, there was sudden clashed of cutlery falling against dinnerware, and soft sobbing as Grandma Val announced the passing of Christopher Tietjens.
Plans for a grand funeral were set in motion. Everything had been arranged long ago, but Grandma Val was not interested in any of it. It would be a few days before the funeral could be held, so many in the family tried to convince Grandma Val to move Grandpapa to a funeral home, where he could prepared properly.
"He's not a leg of lamb that needs 'preparing'!" Grandma Val shouted at her children and grandchildren, as she stood at the foot of the bed, where Christopher's body lay. The same bed they had shared for soooo many years. Where so many sorrows had been bore, so many arguments resolved, so many children had been created, where they had created a life they never thought possible.
"Mother, please." Isabel, the eldest daughter, pleaded. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying and worry over her father's body and her mother's mind.
"NO! He will not be removed from Groby! I forbid it." Valentine's voice sounded manic and overwrought. "Everyone, please. Two days. It is all I ask." Valentine took a few deep breaths to calm herself. The group of people in the bedroom doorway started to disburse. Valentine sobbed once, the handkerchief in her fist, crumbled beyond use. Isabel walked toward her mother, embracing her softly, gently, as if not to break her fragile mother.
"Oh, mother." Isabel spoken softly to her mother, as she stroked her mother's hair. Valentine pulled away to gazed at her eldest daughter. Soft waves of golden hair, green eyes, and cupid bow lips. Yes, she was her father's daughter. All the children Valentine had borne for Christopher had much of the same coloring. Golden hair, with some having darker shades, reminiscent of her brother Edward and Christopher's brother, Mark; lighter eyes, although the boys all seem to have gained Valentine's brown ones. Many of the children had inherited Christopher's keen intellect and aptitude for numbers. Even some of the girls, which both intrigued and confounded Christopher when Valentine insisted that Isabel be sent to university. One of the many debates Christopher and Valentine would have over the years.
The thought brought a smile to Valentine's aged face as she gazed at Isabel. Her gaze wandered to her dead lover, lying peacefully just a few feet away from them. Isabel followed her mother's gaze, a soft cry of angst escaping her lips.
"What am I to do without him, Isabel?" Valentine whispered as she gazed at the face of the man who had given her everything; and who she had given everything to. Valentine had no more tears to shed. Isabel did not know what to say, she just knew a great man was gone from this earth.
"Isabel, could you please send Ana to me?" Valentine asked softly. Isabel snapped out of her musings and memories of her father.
"Of course." Isabel left the room, glancing back at her mother who walked to sit in the chair next to the bed. Valentine sat in the wooden chair next to the bed, gazing at her beloved. She stroked his cheek lovingly.
"So cold." A frown deepening the lines around her face. She continued to stroke his hair in reverence.
"It's almost time, my love." She whispered sweetly. She was unsure what she expected to happen. Perhaps she was waiting for Christopher to agree with her, argue with her, laugh at her. Anything, but this, she though solemnly.
"Mother?" Isabel called from the doorway of the room. "Ana is here." Isabel waited. Valentine motioned for Isabel to bring Ana into the room. Isabel hesitated and spoke softly to Ana just out of view. Isabel walked swiftly into the room, toward her mother.
"Mother! I do not think it is appropriate for Ana to come in here." Isabel announced, her hands gripping the back of the high-back wooden chair.
"Why?" Valentine asked innocently.
"Why? WHY?" Isabel exhaled a frustrated breath, pausing collected her thoughts. Isabel looked to the doorway to ensure Ana safely in the hallway. "Ana has lost both her parents. And now her…her beloved Grandpapa… and you would traipse her in here to see his dead body?"
Valentine understood Isabel concerns. Ana had never seen her parent's bodies; she had been too young when they died tragically in a car accident. It was only God's good graces that Ana was left at Groby that night that she too had not been killed. Although Valentine had no way to confirm it, but she believed, it was because of the death of his grandson that Christopher had the stroke less than a year later.
"Not to see his dead body, no. To say good-bye." Valentine placed a hand over Isabel's, as she gazed lovingly at her. There was soo much more to Valentine's words. Isabel nodded in agreement and walked toward the door. Isabel crouched down to Ana to speak softly. A smile spread across Isabel's face as she nodded in unison with Ana. Isabel always had a way with children, Valentine thought, as she watched in the mirror at the exchange. Perhaps it was wrong to bring the child in here. However, she had to do it. Ana was special to her and Christopher. The last grandchild they would see come into this world… hold in their arms. Nevertheless, Isabel was good with the children; she supposed being the oldest girl in a family of nine children, you would acquire a few skills on how to handle children. Sweet Isabel. Valentine thought.
I walked cautiously into the bedroom. I had seen the room before. Grandpapa always let me tuck him in at night. In addition, he would always kiss my favorite stuff animal and me at the time. There were times I would change my stuffed animal from one to another, and he would require a proper introduction. I never minded the way talked or if a little spittle would come out. I would just wipe it away real quick. He would always thank me. I just thought that is way he talked. I remembered as I walked closer to the bed, when I would read scary stories to him and he would make wonderfully scary growling and monster sounds just at the right times to scare me. This was a good place. I remembered Grandma Val sitting in her overstuffed chair in the corner, watching us play, giggling, as I would whisper secrets into Grand papa's good ear. Yes, this was a good place. As I reached the bed, I saw Grandpapa, lying with his hands in his lap. He was very pale, almost blue. He looked like he was sleeping really, but I knew Grandpapa never slept during the day, "Too much to do!" he would tell us. My eyes caught Grandma Val's in the reflection of the mirror. She beckoned me forward, around the footboard, up the side of the bed. It was then I saw the box at her feet, I looked at it curiously, but then I looked at Grandpapa. Is this what dead looks like? I thought to myself, I paused next to my Grandma Val, gazing at the man who I loved soo much.
"Don't be afraid, Ana." Grandma Val whispered into my ear.
"He looks…cold." I observed, looking over my shoulder questioningly.
"Yes, he is cold now. He beyond this world, Ana. He is with the angels."
I understood there was nothing that could be done.
"If I say to goodbye to him, will he hear me?" I asked. Tears welled in Grandma Val's eyes; tears she had not thought she had left to shed.
"Oh, yes, my dear. He will hear you. He will always hear you." She smiled softly, tucking the long strand of strawberry blonde hair around my ear.
I leaned close and whispered, "Grandpapa," tears filling my eyes as I spoke, "Grandpapa, it's me…. Ana." I took a steadying breath, "I….I've come to say goodbye." My voice hitched up a bit as I continued, "I just wanted to say…that...that…no one can do scary monster growls like you can. And I will miss you very much." I looked back at Grandma Val, who just smiled at me, as I looked at her; a tear fell onto my Grand papa's cheek. I hear the sound and looked down at his face. I moved to wipe it away, but Grandma Val stopped me.
"Don't worry, Ana. He would gladly take your tears with him, if only to prevent them from falling in the future." Grandma Val kissed my tear stained cheeks. "Ohhhh, he loved you so, so much. He loved all of you so much, but you held a special place in his heart." Grandma Val took both of my hands in hers and walked me over to the box next to the bed. Grandma Val sat on the chair again, smiling.
"Ana, you are an excellent writer. I, and your Grandpapa, have seen your work and think it is fantastic." Grandma Val said very animatedly. "Did you know that my mother was a writer, a quite one too. But you, you are exceptional." Grandma Val pointed at me in seriousness.
"I want you to have this." She stated as she lightly tapped the box with her foot. "It is very special to me. I never told your Grandpapa I had it." Grandma Val whispered looking over at my Grand papa's body to be sure he did not hear her. "You mustn't tell anyone about it, do you understand?" I nodded yes, but I really did not understand. "When you are ready, I want you to open it up and write a story about what you find inside. Or several stories, it doesn't matter. The point is, when you write your stories you must remember your Grandpapa, and me, and never forget that it, our family, may have never been." There was a twinkle in Grandma Val's eyes, as she seem remember, her eyes drifting shut as she hummed a tune I had never heard before.
It was late, very late in the evening. Isabel, Emma, and Zoe had all convinced their mother, Valentine, not to sleep in a bed with a corpse, even if it was their beloved father's corpse. They had all relented in allowing the body to stay at Groby, but they drew the line there. Michael, Thomas, and Edward had all arrived with their families. Groby packed to the gills with people, yet it was oddly quiet throughout.
"It's absolutely ludicrous that my father's body has been left where he died three days ago!" Isabel shouted, waving her hand about, a lit cigarette perched in between her fingertips.
"Our father, Isabel. and do please, calm down, Isabel. Mother might hear you." Michael calmly pointed out as he guided Isabel to the sofa nearby. All the surviving Tietjens children were in the room, smoking, drinking.
"Besides, the funeral is tomorrow." Michael reminded his emotionally distraught eldest sister. Everyone else were just numb. They all knew it was coming. In fact. Most of thought it would happen soon after the stroke ten years ago, but good, ol' Tietjens had soldiered on.
"He seemed to be so happy, almost like he was getting better, last time I saw him." Emma mused from her perch on the loveseat.
"How is mother?" Zoe quietly asked. She had been late arriving and Grandma Val had retired to the upstairs bedroom, at Isabel's insistance that Grandma Val could not sleep with a corpse.
Isabel shrugged her shoulders, "She won't leave his side. She thinks that….bo-body is our father." Isabel told the group pointedly.
"But it is our father, Isabel." Zoe innocently reminded Isabel, who was now pacing back and forth-in front of the fireplace.
"NO! No, it is not our father!" Shouted Isabel, her voice hitching a bit, leaning in, and looking pointedly at each of the Tietjens children present. Isabel smirked a half smile, much the man lying dead in the other room, snuffing the cigarette out in the crystal ashtray.
"You know, as well as I know, that our father right now is in heaven, arguing with God himself that his statistical calculations are wrong." All the Tietjens children laughed at the joke. Thomas, wanting to lighten the mood, stood up, his glass raised high.
"A toast! To Father." Thomas declared. The remaining children stood up as well, their drinks raised in salute.
"May he win his argument with the Almighty! Perhaps the odds will be more of a favor for us mere mortals here on Earth if Father wins! Hear! Hear!" Everyone clinked glasses and drained their glasses. Standing in a circle, looking at each other, slowed they took each other's hands. "What will we do without him?" Michael dared to whisper, "What will mother do without him?" Zoe whispered. There was no reply.
Valentine crept from the bedroom on the second floor, to the ground floor bedroom where Christopher's body lay. Three days it had been. Three days without his smile, without the light touches of reassurance, without that twinkle in his eyes.
Valentine entered the room and paused. She did not care how macabre it seemed. She would lie there with him. She would not leave him alone. Her old, frail body relaxed comfortably into right side of the bed. She glazed over at her lover, her chevalier, her soul mate, and she could almost imagine him sleeping. But she knew he was not. She sobbed softly, but sleep came rather quickly.
Flash of white and Valentine awoke, but she was standing. She was standing by the bed, but her body was there next to Christopher. There was a strong feeling of peace and hope filling her. She had not felt so alive. She smiled. She did feel like herself, in fact, she gazed to the polished mirror and she saw herself, as she once was. When Christopher had first come back from the war. She peered at herself, silently stroking the unlined face before her, giggling like a schoolgirl. Because I am a schoolgirl, Valentine thought. She looked back at the bed she seemed to be above the bed now. Valentine watched as she saw Thomas enter the room, he called out down the hall, which echo strangely, as if Valentine was hearing it through a tunnel, "She's in here!"
"Oh my god, Mother! I told you it's not proper." Isabel marched into the room pasted Thomas. Valentine sighed as she realized this dream would end soon as they woke her, but she smiled at Isabel indignation.
"Mother?! Mother? Wake up. Please, mother!" Isabel shouted as Thomas and the rest of the family started to arrive. There was no response. Valentine, still hovering over the scene thought this a most curious dream.
"Mother? Thomas, call an ambulance now!" Isabel ordered as she stroked her mother's hair. "Oh god, no. Not you too." Isabel sobbed. Zoe, Emma, Edward, Michael crowded around Valentine's body, making it impossible to see. Things were getting blurrier and blurrier, the sounds of the children more and more indistinct. Valentine had a strange sense of calm wash over her.
She was suddenly outside Groby, floating high above. Warm sunshine on her face as she traveled somewhere. The light was bright, but no so bright it was not pleasant. Pleasant that is want it was, pleasant. There was nothing but light which was pulling her faster and faster. Then suddenly, Valentine appeared in a field, not unlike the one she sat with Christopher after their ride in the midst. The field Valentine had fallen in love with Christopher, and he will her. But this one was different; the midst was to her knees making her feel like she was on cloud, but with a firm surface underneath. She spun around and around in joy and happiness. She paused for a moment in her revelry, seeing a shadowy figure moving toward her. She shielded her eyes for a moment trying to discover if it where friend or foe. The shape took form slowly, crystalizing, formalizing into the shape of a person. Valentine waited a moment longer, and then slowly recognized the gait and stride of her beloved Christopher. She covered both of her hands over her mouth to keep from squealing in delight. Valentine closed her eyes and voiced the most sincere prayer.
"If this is a dream, I beg never to be woken up." Valentine pleaded breathlessly.
"Granted" the strong, deep-timbered voice of Christopher announced smartly as he stopped directly in front of Valentine. Valentine opened her eyes slowly, seeing a much younger Christopher, in his military uniform, smiling softly down at her.
Valentine threw her arms around Christopher and they kissed passionately for the briefest of moments. Breathless and joyful, their lips barely apart, a smile of pure love spreading across Christopher's face as he held his love.
"I am here to escort you through eternity."