A Final Gift

Clark sat on the bed with the unopened letter in his hand. Staring at it. From Lois, of course.

For some reason--. no, make that for some unreason, he didn't want to open it, yet at the same time he wanted desperately to read it.

"Another goodbye", he thought. "I don't know if I can stand another goodbye".

The funeral had been difficult enough, but it was an ending.

He had been hoping for a small service with just close friends. What actually happened was something else.

Lois Lane hadn't been a regular reporter in years, yet she was still remembered. Politicians and police, firemen and what seemed to be every newsperson in town, showed up. Clark just hadn't thought about how big the story of his wife's passing would be. But then he was wrapped up in his own grief. Many came just to get face time, of course, but most of them came to pay their respects to someone important to them. Someone who, through her reporting, had helped so many of them. It was her gift to the city, her writing. A gift of truth, when lies were easier to come by.

That was when it hit Clark that not only had he loved her, but the whole city did. Even after all these years out of the spotlight. They remembered, and they would always remember. The idea brought some comfort. It lightened his burden just a little.

And now, years later, he found one last gift from her. To Clark. He opened the envelop and smoothed the creases from the pages. Surprisingly, it wasn't typed, but written out in longhand. Other than a note on the fridge every so often, he never saw anything by her that wasn't typed on a computer and printed out.

Dearest Clark,

If you are reading this, I must be gone. I know you, Smallville. You wouldn't even think of going through my stuff if I was still around. I wonder how long it took you to find this? A week? A year? I wish I could know.

First, I need you to know how much you've meant to me in our years together. You've saved my life countless times from all kinds dangers. Thugs, aliens, accidents and my own missteps. You know all that, of course, but what you don't know is that there was another time you saved my life and didn't even realize it. It was that day in church when you said "I do".

I think that's when my life really got started. Before I met you, I had the career and the fame but I didn't have a life. Not a real one, anyway. Not one that meant much. At the time, I was too busy to notice.

After we married I could look back and actually see how little that life had meant. No, it wasn't because I found a man (or superman, in this case), but because I found the man. The man to share everything with. With you, everything was more real, more important. It took me a while to understand, but I finally figured out why.

Before I was with you, I did a great job of reporting. I reported on other people's lives. Their achievements and their failings. But it never affected me. I was apart from that. I was a neutral observer in the stories and the people around me.

In my own way, I fought for truth and justice too, but those were only concepts to me. It was for the sake of truth and justice and not what that meant for real people. Truth merely meant exposing lies and justice was what was supposed to happen to the bad guys. It had nothing to do with making people happier or safer or making the world a better place.

But you changed that for me. When I first met you, I began to see, a little. When we began our lives together, though, I suddenly felt I was a part of everything. Stories had meaning to me. People had meaning to me. The whole city had meaning for me. For the first time it felt as if it truly was my city. Truth and justice were concretes necessary to help people and not just an end in themselves.

You opened my eyes, farmboy, and I will always be grateful for that.

And all that, Clark, was just a fringe benefit next to what you really meant to me. You were my partner, lover, husband, friend. I've had a wonderful life with you, Clark Kent. You were the love of my life even though it took me so long to realize it. I love you with everything that I am and everything I could possibly be. And I know you feel the same about me, and maybe that's the most amazing thing of all.

All the love songs and poems can't even begin to describe how I feel about you. After all these years I find myself amazed that I get the same thrill holding your hand that I did the very first time. Every touch, every kiss stirs me the same way as the first ones did.

You've always put me first, as I have tried my best to put you first. And in that spirit (yes, that pun was intentional), I want to leave you with a final gift.

I know how you're feeling now, Clark. There were times when I was sure you would never be able to come back to me. Nothing was real and nothing was very important anymore. It wasn't only loneliness, it was desolation and despair. As if my soul had been ripped out of my body.

I think you are feeling a little like that right now, Clark.

"I do", he whispered. A tear fell to the pages before he realized he was crying. Gently placing the unfinished letter next to him, Superman, the Man of Tomorrow wept for what he had lost yesterday.

It was many minutes later before he could bring himself to dry his eyes and continue reading.

I am gone now, Clark. While the selfish part of me is glad that you still love me, that part that loves you wants you to be happy again. Grief is just a stage, darling, and isn't meant to last forever. You have always stood for life and all the good things that go with it. It's time for you to start living again. Not only for you, but for all those who are still there to love and be loved by you. Life is too short, even for you, to waste it. Pining away for me is romantic...in a story. This isn't a story, sweetheart.

I want you to do me a favor, Clark. I want you to go and talk to Diana. When I thought you were dead, I had Ma and Pa to lean on and spill out my heart and grief to. Diana can be that pillar for you. I know she wants to be. Knowing you, you've probably distanced yourself from everyone, including her. (Even when I'm not alive I can read you like a book, Smallville.)

I never knew Diana well, but I can say for sure that your distancing yourself from her has hurt her. I also know that she would never show it, stubborn Amazon that she is. You are her best friend. Right now she is your best friend too. Best friends are always there for each other, just like you were always there for me. Let her be there for you.

I know that when you were away from home that you leaned on each other sometimes. No, I know that you didn't cheat on me. I'm not stupid, you know. Yes, she's gorgeous and sexy and... Anyway, the point is, none of that was what was important. What really mattered was your heart, and that belonged to me. It took me a long time to understand that.

I had your whole heart. Now all I need is just a small part of it. If you let me keep your whole heart now that I'm gone, you will never be happy again. I want to inspire you to do even more great things, not be an anchor tied to your heart. Keep me tucked into the corner of your soul, but it's time for you to move on.

That is my last request of you, Clark, as well as a final gift to you. The request you understand, but the gift you will only understand in your own time. This is as it should be. This is how I wish it.

No matter what the afterlife brings for me, remember that I will always keep you in my thoughts. You will always have my love and you will always be a part of me. Think about what I have said and you will understand, even if you don't right now. When you understand, go talk to Diana. She can help you.

Know that I love you with all my heart and body and soul, my dearest Clark. If you remember nothing else, remember that.

Love,

Lois Lane-Kent

P.S. Remember when I threw a fit because you cleaned my desk? Well, I wasn't really mad. I had just come up with the idea of writing this letter and I needed to make sure you wouldn't be nosing around one day and find it. Gotcha again, Smallville.

Last thing. Please contact our lawyer, Henry. Tell him you've read the letter. Don't ask, just do it.

Carefully, gently, Clark put the letter back into the enevelope and returned it to the desk drawer. Thinking would come later. All he could do now was lay back on their bed and stare at the plain white ceiling, blurred by the tears running unchecked from his eyes. He would have to call Henry later.

As Diana collected her mail, she noticed a Fed-Ex package from Henry Iverson, Attorney at Law. Curious, she opened it at her kitchen table.

Even more curiously, the only thing in it was a letter-sized envelope.. The return address was the Kent residence. The handwriting, however, wasn't Kal's. In large lettering, it merely said "To Diana".

To be continued?