A note to the reader: I have been writing fan fiction for many years, and rarely does a story land in my mind fully blown and complete. This story is the result of a very strange thing that happened to me. I fell asleep late one night and vividly dreamed the entire story from beginning to end. I thought it would make a good piece of fanfiction that I would work on it in the morning. I got a late-night snack, went back to bed and fell asleep again…only to dream the exact same story AGAIN. When I woke upthis time, I got my pad and started writing. No – that's not exactly true. I took dictation from Sam Carmichael as HE told the story. That's how I experienced this piece. So, imagine yourself, sitting on a beach in Greece at twilight, a drink in hand, as Sam Carmichael talks to you about life….

AFTER DONNA:

I have been many things in my life: son, grandson, student, husband, father…well, you get the idea. But there was one thing I was never prepared to be: a widower. That label has defined me from the moment Donna died and will continue to do so until the day I finally join her in paradise.

I think about that day – the day she died – every waking moment. At times, when I am with Sophie, Sky and that sweet little boy Donnie, it plays at the back of my mind on a hazy loop. The edges are fuzzy and dim, like a badly lit home movie. Then, at night, when I am alone in the cottage Donna and I shared, the film roars onto the screen in my mind in full widescreen detail. I am left gasping for breath and fighting back tears.

Donna had gone to the mainland to run some errands. She had asked me to go with her, but I had begged off – I was too busy constructing a fountain in the center of the patio. Now, I torment myself with the thought that if I had gone with her I could have prevented the accident somehow. I could have saved her! Was she distracted as she crossed the street? Had she gotten a call on the satellite phone I gave her so she could stay in touch with Sophie on her travels with Sky? Was she jostled by someone and fell into the street – into the path of a speeding, overburdened truck?

I will never know. By the time the Greek authorities made it to the island, found me and got me to the hospital, it was too late. They had her hooked up to all sorts of machines that kept her heart beating but really…she was gone and all I could do was make the official verification. I wasn't able to even say a proper goodbye so I just held and kissed her hand.

I sent what few staff we had home and began to make calls: Sophie and Sky in Rome, Bill and Rosie in Stockholm, Harry in London, Tanya in Chicago, and my sons in New York. I even got word to Donna's mother in Las Vegas, God only knows how I found the strength to make those calls, but I did. Afterwards, I sat in the tiny hotel bar, alone, and tried to drink myself into oblivion. It didn't work. I kept seeing Donna's lovely face and felt her presence there. I was totally bereft.

The next few days were a blur: arrivals, decisions, mourning and mindless activity, followed by waves of sheer exhaustion. I do remember telling Bill about a conversation Donna and I had after someone in the village had died waiting on an organ transplant and her wishes to be a donor. She had put it on her international driver's license and I had signed the papers in the hospital so they could harvest her organs in time. Someone else would live a full life because Donna had died too soon but that is very cold comfort.

She had also wanted to be cremated and her ashes scattered around the island she loved so much. Once everybody arrived, we gathered during a gorgeous sunset and slowly circled the island, fulfilling her request.

I also had something else in mind. I had an artisan on the mainland craft medallions of The Panagia, the All-Holy icon of Greece – the Holy Mother of God. Inside of each he placed a few grams of Donna's remains and I gave a medallion to each of them. I keep mine on my bedside table but I don't need the medallion to remember her. She is with me all the time…in my heart and in the people around me. I see so much of her in Sophie and even in Donnie's developing personality.

I was so relieved when Sophie and Sky decided to stay on the island and forget traveling for awhile. The two of them kept me on my feet and active when – really – each of us felt like crawling away somewhere in the dark. If I have learned anything from this awful business, it is that grief shared is at least bearable.

At some point, a few days after her death, Donna's family (in other words, all of us) gathered to finish the fountain I hadn't had the heart to complete. Several bottles of Uzo appeared and were passed around. Suddenly, as Tanya tried valiantly to lift our spirits with a crazy story about the Dynamos, we all got a case of the silly, drunken giggles. We sat there on that cold stone patio, laughing and singing until our sides hurt.

Looking back, laughter and music from the people she loved was probably the best memorial to my darling girl…my Bella Donna…but God…how I still miss her.