September 20, 1918
My mother died this morning. I don't know how I can possibly go on without her. My mother was loving and kind, her voice soft and her hands gentle. She had the loveliest voice, so strong and clear, and I had always loved to hear her sing sweet lullabies. Now that she's gone, I can feel the fight in me lessening, the influenza taking over. But I want to fight for her, to let her know she raised a strong daughter that will carry on her legacy.
The only good thing that has come out of this whole Spanish influenza ordealepidemic is the fact that Edward and I have grown infinitely closer. He comes to see me every day. Today, when he came to see me, I needed him more than ever. He brought in a bouquet of purple irises, my favorite flower. He kissed my burning forehead and sat down beside my bed, his hand wrapped around mine.
All I could think as he sat there talking to me was Thank God he was still alive and well and still wanted meby my side. I don't know without a doubt I will not be able to survive if anything happens to him. how I will be able to survive if anything happens to him. "Charlotte, darling," he had whispered into my ear as he stroked my sickly hand. "You must get better. Without you, there is no reason for me to go on."
"Edward, stop being dramatic," I told him as I always did when he said such preposterous things.
"Dear Charlotte, I only tell you what I feel. Is it dramatic if it's true?" He asked, his voice sweet and lovely, adoration pouring from his grass-green eyes.
"Oh, I don't know. Let's stop arguing. Will you recite a poem to me?" I was weary and in no mood for the playful bickering bantering I had once lived for. Instead, I wanted him to recite one of the poems we both loved and knew by heart.
"'Escape me? Never- beloved, While I am I and you are you, So long as the world contains us both, Me the loving and you the loth, While the one eludes, must the other pursue,'" he whispered the beautiful words of Robert Browning's Life in Love.
I began my favorite poem of Robert Browning's wife, "'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.'"
"Bravo," Edward smiled. "Would you like to hear another one, mademoiselle?"
"Yes, please," I muttered, as I closed my eyes.
"'The tide rises, the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; Along the sea-sands damp and brown The traveler hastens toward the town, And the tide rises, the tide falls,'" His voice was my lullaby and as he recited the beautiful words of Longfellow, I began to fall asleep. "'Darkness settles on roofs and walls, But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls; The little waves, with their soft white hands, Efface the footprints in the sands, And the tide rises, the tide falls…'"
I was near sleep when he kissed my hand and left me. I fell asleep and dreamted pleasant dreams of the future I look ed forward to with my Edward.
Disclaimer: The poems mentioned above are Life in Love by Robert Browning, How Do I Love Thee? By Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. I don't own them or any of the characters/places mentioned from Stephenie Meyer's Twilight.