Author's Note: Thank you once again to my reviewers – Brookestar, Emely and Maven and also to Melly for her great enthusiasm :) You are all brilliant, and I appreciate the encouragement.

And if you have 'Say Goodnight, not Goodbye' by Beth Nielson Chapman listen to it while reading. Onto the second last chapter:

~*~

Chapter 5 ~ Goodnight, Goodbye

What did you think when you looked at me for the first time?

Did you smile a soft, secretive smile as you kissed my eyelashes or held my hands to count ten tiny fingers, each with a perfectly formed fingernail?

Or did you cry and wonder how things were going to be, what the future would hold for you and me, what I would do, become, as you gently tickled my feet and blew raspberries on my stomach?

I wonder, if I saw you and loved you instantly when I opened my eyes for the first time. I wonder if I knew instinctively who you were and how important you would be to me, if at that moment an unbreakable bond was formed between us, a connection to hold us together through life and now, beyond it.

I couldn't see then what I know now, that time could change us so. You always were different to other mothers, but I didn't hate you for it. Those crazy times when we'd stay up all night and you took us camping in the living room, or the rainy winter time when you let us colour in and draw on our bedroom walls - you always seemed to know what would be fun to do. You fed my imagination, helped me learn how to cope. You made me who I am, made me ready to face the world.

You could be so irrational, so unpredictable. I often saw the curtains in the houses across the street moving as others looked out at us and our world of absolute chaos. They saw only  the tornados, our most violent of moments, never the gentle flapping of butterfly's wings as you helped me take my first steps or taught me my first word, nor the endless silence that followed after you took your last breath.

I remember how, when Dad left, you went outside to the middle of our front garden and sat in the rain for hours. It was bleak, and so bitterly cold. You wore that thin cotton jumper with the purple patches at the elbows and the water soaked through it in minutes. Stubborn as always you stayed out there because you didn't want us to see you cry, but we saw. We could count your tears and separate them from each drop of rain on your face. We knew how he broke your heart. We knew how much you blamed yourself for his leaving, but he left us on his own. We've always realised that it wasn't your fault, that you couldn't help it. He was weak, he gave up on us. You were strong to survive this long.

I never hugged you enough, I never told you how much I love you. There were times when I wished you were normal, that I could bring friends home without being afraid of what I'd find. I hope you knew that I never meant those things I said, although I've never apologised for them. I want to say I'm sorry, if you're listening.  Don't laugh - or rather laugh, because I hope you're happy now, you deserve to be. I hope it's as beautiful up there as I imagine it to be, flowers and rainbows, golden sunshine, no tears, except for those of joy. I hope you aren't hurting anymore. Dance while the wind ruffles your hair. You always called me your angel. Now can I call you mine?

Do you remember how I wanted that dress for my prom? The red one with the low neckline, that fitted my waist perfectly? I remember falling in love with it as we passed it in shop, and then hiding my disappointment when I saw the price tag. I really thought you didn't notice my face as we walked away, but you did. You  were always aware of how I felt, what I thought, even though I mightn't ever have given you credit for it. I never told you how many compliments I received on my dress that night. I never told you how grateful I was for the time that you spent sewing and stitching before it. You never let on what you were doing until I saw an even prettier version of that dress hanging in my wardrobe. It's still there, Maggie. I'll never throw it out. It's fabric still holds the scent of that night, it's stitches are memories of you. I put it on this morning and ran my fingers over your embroidery. I closed my eyes and saw the look on your face as I walked down the stairs to leave.

I felt beautiful then for the first time in my life, and it was down to you.  I never thanked you for that.

I didn't think it would be so hard to say goodbye, to let go. The mass is packed with people, most of whom I don't know. I should have known life would go on in Minnesota without me. I never meant to leave you so far behind, for us to grow so far apart. The church is nice, though I'm not sure if you'd approve of the flowers – they've mixed red and pink roses, and I know how much you disliked those colours together. I didn't arrive in time to replace them.

I want to stand up and tell them all about you, but nothing I can say will ever do justice to who you were. I can't make them understand how wonderful I thought you were despite everything. I remember you with a smile on your face, and when I see you happy somehow the good outshines the bad. Maybe it's denial of the past. But I think it's that I miss you more than I'll ever admit. There's a silence in my heart today. It's beats as always, surviving though a part of it will from now on be missing. It's the part I gave to you that time when I first caught your eye. 

The church is cold and bare. The front row was reserved for family. I sit there alone. I don't know where Eric is, but I wish he was here. I wish anyone was here. The empty space beside me leaves no prospect of a hug, a reassuring hand on my shoulder or a smile to say I'll be okay. The wooden bench is as hard and numbing as that day we stood arguing in the rain. I'm looking at my hands, twisting my fingers around and around, trying to think of everything but I only think of you. My lips are bruised from repeating your name to myself, my throat sore from stifling sobs.

They say nice things about you, read poems, tells stories. They laugh, though like me they're crying inside. It's a feeble attempt to disguise the reality. They talk, they smile as tributes flow – things that you used to do, but now you're gone, only a shell remains. Somehow I'm there only in body. In spirit I'm lost in memories, immersed in things I should have done but I never did, things I should have said to you, told you. Perhaps I should have made an effort to visit more often, phone more often. Now I can only watch as you reach journey's end. I left you behind in Minnesota, you've left me behind in life.

I saw you last night, held your hand, talked to you. You lay there quietly, your cool hand slowly draining the heat from mine. Your skin still had the softness I remember from long ago, your perfume hadn't changed. This is what remains, all that you've left behind. Someone had dressed you in the suit you bought for my wedding to Richard, and in the gloaming I took a comb from my bag and carefully brushed the stray strands of hair away from your face and stroked your cheek. You looked so peaceful, as you slept, innocent, childlike, except your breath didn't warm my face as I kissed you one last time.

The world revolved but we stood still as I whispered in your ear all those things I wanted to tell you and tucked you in between the sheets gently. I watched over you by candlelight as you did me, all those years ago.

Later on when the house was quiet I laid my head next to yours, and dreamed you were still here, telling me fairytales as my eyes shut in sleep.

They lift you up now and you sail high upon their shoulders, brown amid a sea of black. I walk behind, trying to keep my head up as others keep their distance from me. We plod slowly down the aisle as those in the seats bless themselves at your passing. The sun shines outside, but somehow I think I'd feel better if it rained. At least then my tears would be hidden – Eric isn't here to see through me.

What was the last thing you saw? Did you look out the window to see the same moon and stars that smiled at you when your life began? Maybe the clouds were grey or perhaps it was a clear night, clear enough for you to see a shooting star. As you sat in your chair by the window did you see your life flash before your eyes? Did you think of all you have accomplished during your time here? You sat there for hours, looking, watching the world go by your window, with the blanket pulled over your feet to keep out the cold, rocking back and forth, lulling yourself into an eternal rest. Maybe the wind whistled a haunting lullaby as you shut your eyes one final time, maybe the tune of a nightingale hung soft in the breeze as wearily you breathed your last.

You have a smile on your face, contented now, you've left your troubles behind. And as the angels took your hands and led you softly through those gleaming gates your blanket fell to the floor and snow covered the ground outside, white and perfect, as another star twinkled brightly in the night sky. You'd gone on to a better place. 

Maggie – as they lower you into the ground I hope you feel no pain. Don't be afraid of the dark, because I've been told it leads to a brighter place. You can wait for me there, if you wish, because I'll run to you once I arrive.

Goodbye Mom.

Sleep tight.

I'll keep you in my dreams tonight, and always.

~*~

The house lies empty, so quiet and still that I can hear her voice as she gently sings me to sleep. Her shoes lie abandoned by the door, her slippers are warming my feet. I sit in her rocking chair by the window looking out. It's a beautiful night, silent, serene. It must have been peaceful and calm as she slipped away.  I've pulled back the curtain so I can gaze out undisturbed.

Soft footsteps scuffle behind me and I feel a hand gently squeeze my shoulder. He kneels down on the floor beside me and rests an arm across my legs.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, waiting, watching, holding our breaths. I never expected him to come, but yet as I left the church there he was, dressed in his formal suit, a friendly face. Once again there for me to lean on. I caught his eye and within second he'd left his perch on the wall behind, and was wiping my eyes with a folded, white handkerchief.

I stand up, and press my nose against the glass. He takes to his feet and stands beside me looking out.

"All those times I told her I hated her, I never told her that deep down I really love her."

"I know."

"Why is it that we always leave it too late? Why can't we just say what we feel instead of waiting until we can't?"

I stop, my fist are clenched, my muscles tightened. I turn to him, expecting an answer. He obliges, awkwardly –

"I think... I think she knows, Abby."

"I'm not.. I mean I meant – "

He turns to face me and looks directly at me. His eyes are deep, yearning. Our hands graze, and blue sparks light the distance between us.

"You weren't talking about her anymore, were you?" he whispers. His voice is hoarse, as though his throat burns with the rawness of his words.

I shake my head.

He takes my hands in his and I feel his lips brush the tender patch of skin on my forehead. Hold me, Carter. Hold me and don't let go.

One hand rubs the small of my back, with the other he brushes my hair behind my ears. My chin rests on his chest feeling it's soft swell as he breathes rapidly. In. Out. In. Out. He presses me to him, now level with his heart I hear it's soft thumping, gentle but so strong.

I cry softly into his shirt, while he tenderly rocks me back and forth, the touch of his body soothing away the pain of the day. I raise my hand to warm the damp patches my tears leave on the expensive tailored material. He place his hand over mine and our fingers entwine, fitting together like pieces of a jig-saw puzzle.

His embrace remains steadfast until the rhythmic sobbing convulsions have been broken and my breathing has slowed. Then we remain locked together looking out onto the darkened street below. There's an eerie haunting silence, broken only by him hushing my cries. Moonlight floods the room and our shadows are cast long upon the wooden floors.

The two of us. Together. A black and white photograph to keep for all eternity.

We break apart.

"Do you remember Gamma?" I wonder aloud.

He nods. "Always."

I cast my eyes downwards. "I want to remember her, but I think I'm already starting to forget... sometimes the detail is hazy, my memories aren't clear."

He clears his throat and trails a finger along my cheek, catching a stray tear. "The bad times fade. Maybe they'll disappear completely. The good times you'll keep in your heart. You'll never forget them – they'll stay with you forever."

Some small part of me realises that he's making sense. He bends down toward the floor and picks something up. With his back turned to me he lights a candle and places it, burning, in the window.

"Maybe, if she passes by tonight, she'll see it."

It flickers, the flame dances merrily in the darkness as the wax begins to melt. The three of us stare out over the sleeping city.  And maybe he's right. Maybe she will see it, because wherever I am, there's always a place for her too.

For both of them.

In my heart.

~*~

Comments: Thank you for reading, please leave a review and tell me what you think!