Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the movie 'Titanic'

1980

I stirred the tea, tapping the spoon lightly on the edge, the sound echoing through the house. The clinging bounced off of every picture sitting above the fire place and on the walls - my four children and their children and some of their children.

I was 84 and I was just drinking some tea and thinking.

I did that a lot every day - deep thinking. I thought about my life and how it had gone. My childhood growing up, the ship that changed my life, the man that changed my life, the first world war, my sister, my children, the second world war, my children's children, getting older.

It was all so easy to remember. It felt as if boarding the Titanic was a month ago. It felt like just a year or two ago that Tommy and I were getting married. It seemed like just yesterday we first had Henry.

But there was an everyday memory of Fabrizio and Jack. The women they never married and the children they never had. Friends we had lost, who never even got a chance to live.

But everyone dies eventually.

I thought back, remembering the first moment Tommy had seemed so sure about it.

"It started with Fabrizio and Jack and it never ended," he said quietly, taking out a cigarette. "The dying never ends."

"Well, neither does life," I suggested, smiling lightly. "We're still alive. We can still create life. In fact -"

"I know, Anna, but we'll never get them back." He looked at me, eyebrows furrowed. "Don't you get that?"

It was hard for him. He had lost his friends and then he had lost even more friends in the war.

But after we had Henry, he had started to change. I had never seen him happier, and we didn't speak of death for a long, long time.

There was no more repacking his military uniform. He stopped taking it out of the pile at the bottom of the closet and refolding it, adjusting the pins and cap, straightening out the edges. He stopped going through box full of things - letters, flowers, pictures, other knick-knacks.

We pushed the dresser with all our might.

I sighed heavily once we stopped, and I stepped back, hands on my hips. "We need to throw some things out, Tommy. Clothes we don't need, shoes, anything."

Tommy nodded, opening the closet and reaching down, picking up his military uniform. "Here."

I looked down at it, my lips parting. "Tommy -"

"Get rid of it, Anna," he said softly, looking me in the eyes. "I don't need it anymore." And then he picked up his box full of memorabilia. "And this."

I took both of the things, staring down at my husband's past. "You want to throw these out?"

"I don't have any need for them."

I shook my head, placing both things down on a nearby table, and then I grabbed his hands, looking up at him. "Why? Are you okay?"

He shook my hands from him, putting his arms around me instead. "I need to make room for the new, love." He smiled lightly, rubbing my back. "Jane's crib has to go somewhere."

"But it's -"

"Memories. Memories I'll have forever," he interrupted.

I sighed, glancing over at the uniform before leaning up and kissing him. I leaned away, picking up the uniform and running upstairs to the small attic, setting both things down next to a couple of boxes filled with other old pictures.

When I was jogging back down the stairs, Tommy was waiting for me at the bottom, smirking and shaking his head. "Did you throw them out, Anna?"

I smiled bashfully. "Of course."

"So they're not sitting in the attic?"

"No. I don't know what gave you that idea." I smirked, continuing down the stairs, standing on the second last to be the same height as him.

We kissed for a minute or two before an eight-year-old and a three-year-old came running into the house, Henry slowing for the benefit of his little brother Fred, who wobbled when he ran.

"No running in the house!" I called out, watching the boys disappear.

Then there was crying from the kitchen.

Tommy let go of me, walking into the kitchen and picking up Jane from her little baby seat, holding her in his arms. "Oh, what's wrong, love?"

Jane giggled, her hands grabbing at the hairs on his face.

I smiled. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Tommy smiled too, looking at me. "Yeah, just like..." He looked back at our daughter, smirking. "Her dad."

I chuckled, walking closer and smacking his arm.

My life had worked its way out.

As for Rose, she did marry Calvert and she did have children - two of them. Her children had grandchildren and she was happily married to Calvert.

She didn't name any of her children Jack. She didn't tell Calvert anything about him. It seemed Rose, Tommy and I were the only people who knew he ever existed.

Rose didn't speak of Jack anymore, but there was always something in her eyes, replaying every moment she spent with him on the titanic.

As much as she was in love with Calvert, her soulmate was Jack. I knew it and she knew it. And that was enough for her to be happy about the rest of her life.

And she was happy.

"Anna?"

I looked up. "Hm?"

Rose stirred her tea, chuckling lightly. "I think your hearing is going, An."

"Oh, shut it."