You Are My Light Part II

241 - Funeral *Modern*

"Mariposa Vivienne Mionette de Valois-Angouleme came into my life one sunny Springtime when we were both five years old." Francis begins, looking down at the page he read from. "I don't remember much from that day, apart from the lush grass on the ground, the blue sky above our heads, but what I do remember, was how beautiful Mary looked in her red dress. She had red flowers in her hair, and we became inseparable with just a look." he pauses. "I am prized for being logical and being inundated on matters, so I never really understood the meaning of a soulmate, but that was before I met Mary. She was beautiful, she was smart, funny, adventurous and brave. So very brave and kind. They say that soulmates are made of the same matter, and I never believed them, until I met her. I do believe that in that one look, I understood that I belonged to her, and she to me. And she told me that she felt the same. From that moment on, we were inseparable."

"I could always outrun her, she hated that, my legs being longer than hers and whatnot. I always teased her, and she would scream at me when I would pitch apples at her from over the seawall-" he is grateful for the chuckle of the crowd, for he has a moment to compose himself. "and she would surprise me by placing pounds of flour on top of doors. My mother would always scream at us for leaving flour footprints over the Manor's floor, and hers would join the frey when I tackled her to the grass and got her covered in it, too. But it didn't matter, we were laughing too much for that to mean anything." he smiles, but it's a sad smile. "I do believe I loved Mary since that first moment, and I grew up loving her when we would travel to each other's estates multiple times throughout the year. We never went more than a few weeks without seeing each other for four years, until Mary's father died when she was nine. I remember him, he was kind, and he loved his daughter as much as I did. He was a good, honest man. And it broke my heart when he died, because it took her away from me. My father was hit the hardest by his brother in arms' death. Our visits all but stopped, but I never stopped loving her, and she didn't stop loving me, no matter how many years passed."

"We properly reconnected when I was sixteen, and she was just about to turn. A function, I believe, is when I saw her again. I was starstruck when I saw her, barely able to take my eyes from her again. She wore a long, white lace dress, and her hair was down in curls. She was so beautiful, I never forgot about her, even after all that time had passed. Our eyes connected, just like they did when we were younger, and I never wanted to let them go again. We talked and danced the whole night, it was like the world was pushed back, and it was just us that mattered. A whirlwind romance interwove us, and I never wanted to escape. She was my sanctuary, my security, my safety. I loved her. I loved her so much. We did everything together, from morning, noon and night, I never wanted to let her go. A little under two years later, we were married."

"I'll never forget how beautiful she looked when she walked towards me in that dress. She was my angel, my enchantress, I adored her, everything about her. And yes, she was stubborn, and she was impulsive, and she always stole my damn shirts, but those little quirks were what I loved about her. I loved her so much, she was my everything. We were planning our life together, we wanted to grow old together surrounded by our children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. I wanted to see her pregnant, a mother, but fate had other plans in store."

"Before I was nineteen, I was diagnosed with leukemia. It was devastating, I tried to push Mary away to protect her, but all it did was pull her closer towards me. She never let me suffer alone through the chemo and the radiation, she was always outside waiting for me, she was always there. Even when I was sick and exhausted, she was always there." he took a breath. "When the concept of organ donation came up, I was terrified as one by one, everybody we knew were tested to be a match. Everyone, from all of our siblings on both sides, to our parents, to our cousins, to our friends. I had a choice of three, Remy, Francois, and Mary, they were matches. I tried to explore other options, but she insisted, and both of them knew better to stand in the way of a woman like Mary." he chuckles, wiping his eye. "My wife insisted, the risks didn't matter to her, she had a way to alleviate my suffering, and she took it without a second thought. We knew she would be hurting for months, but we didn't know it would cost her her life."

"The donation process went fine, but the aftermath, on her, it went horribly wrong. So wrong that it took three surgeries to get it right, but even then, my wife slipped into a coma. Nothing we did did anything at all, and it began to be about us than it was about her. It was making her suffer, so we all made the decision to turn off her life support."

"I will never recover from the death of my wife, but the silver lining is that she gave her life for me, so I can live. My wife gave me the greatest gift of all, and for that, I will be eternally grateful. That-that's the kind of person Mary was. She would give her jacket to a person on the streets, she would give and give and give, she never took. Mary was never afraid when we started the process, she was never afraid when she was wheeled away from me. The last thing she did with her life was save mine, and that speaks more words than I could ever." he takes a breath, looks at Mary's grieving mother, who gives her the nod. He accepts it, and pulls out another piece of paper from his suit jacket. "I didn't know if I should do this or not, add this or not, but I think it's only right, that since the last act of her life was what it was, than her acts beyond her life should be given recognition. Nobody besides her mother and siblings and I know what she did, so let me tell you." he takes a breath, and unfolds the paper. "In Mary's will, she stated that if she should not recover, she wished for her organs to be donated. And because of her decision-" he looks down from the crowd to the paper. "Rebecca Alison can finally stop her dialysis, she was given Mary's liver. Timothy Walker can breathe away from the ventilator, he was given her lungs. He's seventeen years old. Westley David can begin to live again, he is thirty two, and his wife is pregnant. He was given her bone marrow. Jessica Hadley, she was given Mary's heart. She's sixteen years old. The list goes on and on and on. My wife saved seventeen lives, and she benefitted fourteen more." he pauses again. "My wife was so generous, and good, and kind, that there really wasn't much left we could bury-" he chuckles slightly, looking at the gold and white casket. "and in her will, she informed the doctors that should she die, that she wanted her eggs harvested, so her and I could have children. That was her dream, and my love, I will make it happen." in that moment, it's just the two of them again, just like it had been when they were five, sixteen and when they were married. 

The door makes a sound, and Francis looks up. There is nobody else there, just the two of them, and there she is. She looks so beautiful. Her hair is over her shoulders and torso and back, long and loose and dark and beautiful. She wears a white gown, her arms covered by a white shawl. She smiles at him, taking a seat on one of the poughs.

"I loved her." he states. "I loved her so much, and in the worst of grieving times, I begged her to tell me why she couldn't have had another donate, why she insisted it had to be her, why did she leave me. Looking for answers, but there is without point. Mary took those answers with her when she left, leaving me. I know-I know that that hurt, that emptiness won't ever go away, not completley. But, I do know that there will be a day where I won't feel it so badly every minute, and the pain won't be so bad, and all the feelings will melt away, and I'll be left with only love. Somebody once told me, so long ago, that I can love you and I can still let you go. So, Mary, my love, I love you and I let you go. By God, I'm going to miss you, and I hope that wherever you go next, that you feel peace, you feel safe, and that you wait for me, that you guide me through this life and when my time comes, that you guide me from this life to the next. Wherever you are now, I hope you know I love you."

Mary smiles at him, and she stands. Mary walks from the pough, down the aisle, and stops at the door. She turns, and smiles one more time, before walking through the door, and letting it close behind her.