The Last Goodbye

Tom gazed lovingly at his wife of more than fifty years. He gently
picked up her hand and kissed it softly. "Oh Bessie, how can I go on
without you?" he whispered.

Tom's eyes were drawn to the array of photographs on the dressing
table. His eyes rested upon their wedding day photograph. She had
looked so beautiful in her wedding dress, borrowed because of the war.
He had looked so proud in his uniform. The smiles that hid the sorrow,
as Tom had had to leave just hours after the wedding.

"Can you remember Bessie?" whispered Tom, "how you had cried and cried
at the train station? You didn't know then that the war was nearly over
and that I would soon be home again. Eeeh, what a knees up we'd had
that night, eh lass? That was the night that our Margaret was
concieved, it must have been, 'cos nine months later there she was,
kicking an' screamin' her way into the world."

Tom looked down at Bessie again, she was unaware of the sorrow that the
sunrise would bring. Tom leaned further back into his chair, still
holding his beloved Bessie's hand. He again looked towrds the
photographs. This time his eyes rested upon that of Margaret's smiling
face. Margaret, she would take this bad.

He could remember the day that she was born, as though it was
yesterday. It had been one of those hot sultry days. He'd been on the
afternoon shift at the nearby coal mine. Bessie had been niggly with
him all morning.

"I'm off now, lass," Tom said. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?
You look a bit pasty, love."

Bessie snapped back, "course I am. Now stop fussing, will you? It's a
baby I'm having, not a herd of elephants. Now go with you, off to work
and give me some peace and quiet."

"Ok, you win," Tom replied, as he puckered up for his usual goodbye
kiss. "Mind though, you fetch Flo from next door if you need anythin'.
I'll not be late home. Ta-Ra love."

It was a gruelling shift that day. The dust was always bad, and the
heat was unbearable. Tom couldn't wait to get home to have his bath in
front of the kitchen fire. He knew that Bessie would have it ready for
his return, along with his supper.

As Tom turned the corner of his street, he'd noticed old Ma Fletcher's
bike outside of his house. Tom quickened his step, this could only mean
one thing, Bessie was having the baby. He threw open the front
door.

"Bessie, Bessie," Tom shouted. He was about to shout again whan Ma
Fletcher opened the bedroom door. She stood there, hands on either side
of her ample hips, glowering at Tom.

"Would you mind keepin' yer voice down? Your Bessie and daughter have
finally gone to sleep, and I'd be much obliged if they could stay that
way."

"Daughter, did you say daughter?" Tom whispered. "You mean....,"

"Yes," Ma Fletcher replied.

"Are they both okay?" asked Tom.

"Yes, just tired."

"Can I go on up, please?"

"Yes, but only for a few minutes, mind."

Tom was sharply brought back to the present, by the sound of the clock
chiming six o'clock. Tom was shocked, he couldn't believe that he'd
been sitting at Bessie's side for most of the night. Another hour and
Maragret would be getting up.

He looked down at Bessie and gently touched her cheek. "Can you
remember the day when the bombshell dropped? Mind you lass, we'd
thought somethin' was wrong, didn't we? Can you remember of how we'd
noticed that our Margaret's eyes were a bit slanted. How she couldn't
hold her head up properly. Aye, well lass, we hadn't been prepared for
what the doctor had had to say, had we?"

Tom stopped for a moment to wipe away a stray tear. He looked down at
Bessie and quietly said, "I remember how you had gripped my hand, tears
streamin' down your face. Me, I couldn't say a word, could I? My mind
just kept on repeatin' that word. Mongol, Mongol, Mongol."

"Tom, Bessie, are you all right?" the doctor inquired.

Tom and Bessie looked at each other. Bessie was the first to reply.
"Why? How?"

"Why, I don't know," the doctor replied. "The how is easier to explain.
Margaret has an extra gene. She should have forty six, instead she has
forty seven. She'll most likely be mentally impaired, she'll never
learn to read nor write and she'll need looking after for the rest of
her life. There is also the possibility that she may have a heart
defect or she may suffer from chest complaints. However, she may have
none of these and the good news is that Mongol children are very
affectionate. I'm sure that Margaret will bring you more joy than
heartache."

Tom looked down at Bessie again. "Well lass, we've certainly had more
joy than heartache, haven't we, eh? An' Margaret was lucky, she never
ailed for anythin' and she did learn didn't she? By, she did us proud
last year, didn't she? That day when we went to college to watch her
gettin' her certificate for Computer and Keyboard Skills. Times have
changed now lass, it's not Mongol now, it's Down's Syndrome. Down's
Syndrome doesn't sound as bad as Mongol, mind you it's still a label.
Well, our Margaret was never anythin' other than our daughter, whom
we've both adored for all these years."

Tom looked at the clock, seven a.m. He could hear Margaret's alarm
clock ringing. Soon she would run into the bedroom as she had done
since she was a little girl.

"Oh dear Bessie, it's time to say goodbye and to say thank you for a
wonderful marriage and a beautiful daughter." Tom bent down and brushed
his lips over Bessie's. "Ta-Ra pet, take care, we'll soon be together
again."

Tom watched as the bedroom door was thrust open. He watched as Margaret
came bounding into the bedroom, then stop abruptly.

"Mam, Mam," she shouted, pointing towards the chair beside the bed. "Oh
Mam, please wake up," Margaret beseeched.

"Wh...what's the matter?" asked Bessie, wiping the sleep from her
eyes.

Margaret just stood there pointing towards her Dad. Bessie sat up and
looked to where Margaret was pointing. She was shocked to see her Tom,
her handsome Tom, obviously dead, just sitting there with a contented
smile on his face.

Bessie opened her arms to her daughter, "your Dad's died
sweetheart."

With a sob Margaret flew into her mother's arms. Mother and daughter
clung to each other for comfort.

Tom still smiling had said his last goodbye.