AFTER STARTING ANEW
Chapter Forty-Three

 

October 15, 1968

Frank Dawson shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden pew. He was seated here in the front row of the antiquated stone church in Denver along with the rest of his family. Surrounded by his own wife and children and his brother and sisters and their respective broods, he felt somewhat buoyed for the task at hand.

He shivered slightly though, chilled as much from the dampness of the old building as from nervousness. Glancing out of the partially opened stained glass window, he could see the golden sun shining down on the patchwork of autumn leaves. The branches of the vividly orange maples and the buttercup yellow aspens danced in the wind. Beyond that was the crystal clear, azure sky that was so typical of Colorado at this time of year. A sky that was as brilliantly blue as the two eyes from which Jack Dawson had viewed life.

Those eyes were shut now forever. His dad had passed away four days ago. The entire Dawson clan had gathered to say good bye to the father they had all adored. First at a private burial yesterday and now at this memorial service that was open to anyone who had known Jack.

They were all here now filling the first four rows of pews. Five children and their spouses, sixteen grandchildren, three of whom were married and two great grandchildren, the youngest being Edie’s six month old granddaughter, Amanda. A total of thirty-one individuals who were either Dawson’s by birth or had married into the family. Thirty-one when there had once been just two.

Frank listened to the soft cooing of Amanda, thinking back to the days when his own boys had been young. It seemed like just yesterday. In fact, it seemed such a short time ago that his father Jack had been the vital young man who they thought could do anything. He and his siblings had worshipped the ground he walked on. Oh there had been the normal family scenes and disagreements. Life would have been pretty boring had those days not existed. Jack, however, had been a fair man. Willing to listen and advise. Eager for his children to develop into their individual personalities, while still conforming to the rules set down by civility, common sense and their mother, Rose.

Vaguely he heard the voice of Reverend Griffith announced the next hymn, Eternal Father Strong to Save. He knew that his eulogy was coming next. All night long he had gone over it in his head. Picturing himself delivering it with the same courageous aplomb he had seen in his father dozens of times. Now with the moment at hand, Frank seriously wished that he had let one of his sons or one of the son-in-laws give this speech. He had serious doubts now that he would get through it without breaking down. The whole family had discussed this subject two days ago and agreed that Frank, as the oldest son, should deliver the eulogy. He knew that he could not disappoint them or his father.

As the amens were sung, Frank quietly left his place next to Marjorie, reveling in the encouragement of her soft handclasp. Approaching the small lectern, he took the speech from his pocket and drew in a deep, if not shaky breath. Frank adjusted his reading glasses and took a sip of water, all the time being keenly aware of the congregation before him. All waiting expectantly. For even on this day, Jack Dawson was a hard act to follow. He noticed several of the older ladies whispering amongst themselves. Frank guessed what they were saying. He knew how much he looked like his dad and he was proud of it. Somehow though, even with the great resemblance, Frank knew he never had the same impact as his dynamic father. Jack had been able to get the attention of a room filled with people by just clearing his throat as well as set the hearts of women quivering until his last breath. No, Frank knew he was no match for that. But in his own way, he would manage to make everyone proud of him.

Closing his eyes briefly in a silent prayer, Frank blew out a sigh before he began. The first few words were going to be the hardest. He clenched his fists tightly determined to rein in his emotions for as long as possible. If he could just get through the first paragraph, he might just make it through the entire speech.

"Four days ago, Jack Dawson, our father and friend to all of you, slipped away from this life that we know. We will miss his presence, but for him we should be happy. When the end came and his eyes closed, his mouth relaxed into a gentle smile. His hand lifted weakly from the bed. Not one of us has any doubts that Mother was there waiting for him. Extending her hand to help him as Dad did for her when they first met."

Frank struggled to control the tremor in his voice. Already he heard several soft sobs from the congregation. The eyes of his sisters, Edy, Molly, and Cora, were already red and swollen from several days of crying. Only Molly, perhaps from her experiences as a nurse, seemed a little more in control today. This was a tough day for all of them, but there was safety in numbers and the knowledge that they were all supporting him with their thoughts, gave him the courage to continue.

"We want to thank you all for coming today to pay tribute to Jack Dawson, a man we all loved. I know that I speak for the whole family when I say that we appreciate all the acts of kindness that have taken place in the last few days. From the phone calls and visits, to the offers of help and delicious meals that have been brought to our home, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts."

Frank glanced out nervously as he surveyed the family sitting below him. Edy, the oldest, by just a few minutes, clutched a hanky in her hand as she unashamedly wiped the tears that flowed freely down her face. She was the first Dawson. One of the babies that Jack himself had brought into this world. The first child to get married. The little girl turned woman that Jack had walked down the aisle. Like the others, her connection with her father had been great. And unlike other families where one child might be closer to one parent than the other, Jack and Rose had been equally loved and popular with all their children.

"There are thirty-one family members here today, all the result of a chance encounter that took place on the stern of a ship, fifty-six years ago. Some of you, who were closest to Rose and Jack, know the story, but there are many more of you here today who don’t. It was a story that my parents or us, for that matter, never talked about much, but they lived through an experience that changed all of our lives forever. I feel that today it is appropriate to tell that story one last time."

Frank’s finger shook with nervousness as the papers with the typewritten words wove back and forth in front of him. Once again he took a breath, silently ordering his mind to focus on the words and not the sorrow. It was too late now to back down. He knew he must finish what he came for. With the soft rattling of the paper he began again to speak.

"Fifty-six years ago in a rather melodramatic moment, our mother toyed with the idea of flinging herself into the cold North Atlantic, in order to escape from an unhappy and unloving engagement. As she stood clinging to the rail, a young wanderer named Jack Dawson appeared at her side and took her hand, never letting go of it again. Fate had stepped in and sealed their relationship forever. Fate, because Dad had won his ticket on this ship in a poker game merely five minutes before sailing time. From that moment on, our parents were inseparable. During that voyage, their love for one another blossomed and was made apparent in many ways."

He couldn’t help looking down at his sisters, Molly and Edy, the twins. They had all eventually learned that the girls had not been born early, but instead right on schedule. Nine months after the sinking of Titanic. Frank forced himself to control a tiny smile as he saw Molly roll her eyes with a look of mock disgust. Her husband whispered in her ear and Frank was almost sure he was commenting on how close after their own wedding that James Jr. had been born. Molly had married late, enjoying a long and satisfying career in nursing, which had included service during World War II. It was a wonder that Jim had corralled her long enough to marry her. However, in him Molly had found a soulmate. Someone who shared her love of adventure and sense of humor, as well as the love of family.

Frank guessed that as Molly traveled the world, Jack had vicariously enjoyed her adventures. He was the one person who could truly appreciate that freedom, even though after marrying Rose he was content to settle down. Molly was much the same. The girl who had once flitted around the world was happiest in her home, surrounded by her husband and children. Never going further than a vacation somewhere in California or to make a brief visit home to Denver when they all gathered as a family.

He turned over a sheet of paper and continued. "Several times on that fateful trip, they saved each other’s lives. When the Titanic sank with fifteen hundred people on board, Mother and Dad were the last to leave the ship. The ocean tried to claim them that night, but it was not to be. Rose and Jack Dawson met the dawn, though separated in the confusion for a time, filled with love, courage, and an unquenchable zest for life."

Frank waited while the gasps and whispers died now, using the time to glance down at Marjorie, hoping that she thought he was doing well. He was rewarded with an approving nod and with a slight sigh of relief he proceeded.

"The Jack Dawson that we have come to say farewell to, the man you all knew, was a lovable friend, neighbor, teacher, artist, and community activist. And that is the way he should be remembered. But beyond that, Jack was also humble, modest, funny, and totally devoted to his family. And we are a big family."

Frank couldn’t help himself from emitting a soft chuckle. His eyes roamed over the first four pews that were packed from side to side with Dawson relatives of all ages. He caught the eye of his sister Cori. Frank knew for certain that she and their dad had some special secrets. When Cori had been stricken with polio so many years ago everyone thought that she would never walk again. Quite mysteriously over a long weekend when Rose had been away, Cori’s attitude had changed and suddenly she was bumping around the house with her old-fashioned and clumsy crutches. When asked what had happened, Cori and Jack had merely exchanged winks and no more was said. Just as Jack’s service in World War I was never discussed, neither were the reasons for Cori’s sudden improvement. Whatever secrets the two shared, one half of that information was gone now forever.

"Family was everything to Dad. He lost his own when he was just fifteen and grew through the tough teenage years without any male role model. It was at that tender age that he left his home in Wisconsin and began to roam the world in search of some elusive dream. After five years on the road, he met Mother and his wanderlust finally ended. Growing up in our family was an unusual experience to say the least. Some might say it resembled living in an asylum of some sort. Dad and Mother allowed us to have every kind of pet from turtles to pigs." Frank looked up to find a few surprised faces. "Yes, they even tolerated the summer when my brother Patrick shared his room with Daisy, a pot-bellied pig."

Without even looking, Frank knew that his brother was out in the audience making faces at him. He and Pat were twelve years apart and as children it had seem like a lifetime. Now that they were older their common interests had drawn them closer and to this day, their sisters dreaded the times when he and Patrick were left alone, not knowing what pranks were waiting for them when they returned. Ironically it was Pat, who had unknowingly and with his devil may care attitude frequently drove their mother to despair, who was now one of the most successful members of the family. And possibly about to become the most well known. Patrick had just confided to him the other day that he was about to plan his campaign to run for office as a U.S. Representative from Texas for the 1970 election. Regretfully Jack had died before Pat had told him. Knowing his father, Jack would have embraced life on the campaign trail and probably sent gaggles of tittering old ladies to the polls to vote for his son.

The clearing of throats and a few coughs suddenly brought Frank back to the task at hand. "Our dinners were disrupted to see a sunset, bedtime would be postponed to watch the glowing harvest moon rise into the sky. Dad found something special to show us every day. It might have been frost patterns on the windows or a late blooming rose. That was what was special about Jack, his ability to find wonder and beauty in even the simplest things. I believe that the experience of losing his parents so young and almost losing his life on Titanic made him never take anything for granted. We used to think he and Mother were a bit crazy when we were younger. Now we have come to appreciate their excitement for the little things in life. We now know the reason why they would become euphoric over wading in a stream, having a simple picnic in the woods or picking berries right off the bushes. The fact that they had faced death several times together bonded the two of them in ways we cannot understand. Dad used to constantly admonish us to 'make each day count'. Our family like yours had experienced great joy as well as sorrow…"

Frank heard the catch in his throat at the last word. He swallowed, struggling for a moment to regain control of his emotions. He tried not to look at his family because he knew that the sight of his wife or one of his sisters in tears would reduce him to weeping right along with them.

As he closed his eyes for a second the vision of his mother as a young woman floated in front of him. He could hear her giggles as his father pushed her on the old swing in the back yard, her voice laughing out as she said over and over, "Jack, no, Jack!" Both of them oblivious for the moment to anyone who was watching. Frank reached for the glass of water, trying to buy just another few seconds before going on.

"We now know how important those words were, 'to make each day count'. It is the axiom by which we all live and I believe that our lives are better for it. In making this speech, I have to tell you that while our dad sounded like an almost perfect, too good to be true person, he was not. He was vulnerable to the same faults as any of us. Jack was a dreamer, a procrastinator, could be moody, and we all know…" Frank now let his eyes sweep across the sea of Dawsons, "that he had a bit of a temper." He saw now the hint of a smile form at the corner of Edy’s mouth, remembering how they as the oldest had often been the brunt of Jack’s temper. "Our father could also swear like crazy, but regardless of all those things, he was kind. Jack Dawson was one of the most kind and sensitive individuals that I have ever known and the five of us were truly blessed to have him as a father. When Dad first met Mother, she was what she called herself a first class girl and Dad was a real vagabond. What happened over the years was very interesting. While they both maintained their distinct personalities, Mother became more daring and casual, more like the young Jack. In the meantime, Dad’s demeanor evolved into someone more polished and formal, a little like the Rose he had first met. They were two interesting individuals. Separately they were very dynamic, but together, they were magical. Their lives were full and they were extraordinarily happy people. Except on April fifteenth of each year. They would disappear for a long walk and when they returned Mother’s eyes were red from crying and Dad would look unusually somber. It was a time for them to remember the friends that they lost on that long ago April night."

Frank glanced down at his paper. Only one more paragraph. Somehow he had gotten through this ordeal. It was as if someone were at his side gently and silently urging him on.

"They are both gone now. We’ll never see anyone like them again. Their spirit lives on though in all of us in the family and in those that they touched in their special way. Our parents handed us a wonderful legacy of how to live and enjoy life. Dad, we know the light went out of your eyes when you lost Mother, but somehow for us, you managed to go on, to smile for us. Now that we know you are together, we'll do the same. And while no day from now on will ever be the same without you, we will make each day count."

Frank removed his glasses with shaking hands. Now that the eulogy was finished and he could go back to his seat, safe in the warmth of Marjorie’s presence next to him, he finally felt the tears start to flow. The sounds of Jack’s favorite hymn started to echo through of old church. "‘Tis a gift to be simple, ‘tis a gift to be free..." Yes, those words summed up Jack’s life. Frank hoped that wherever Jack was, he could hear them all raising their voices in the song he loved so much.

One of the small stained glass windows at the end of his pew was open. As Frank walked past a light breeze ruffled his hair and he could have sworn he heard a whisper. He turned his head to the side to be sure he was not imagining things, but the words, though soft, were clear. "Come on Rose, it’ll be all right now." Even through his tears, Frank had to smile. He knew that the love of Jack and Rose Dawson would go on forever.

The End.

A message from the author.

In October it will be three years since I first put my fingers to the keyboard in an attempt to write some fan fiction. I never imagined that I would still be writing now or would have written so many stories. Along the way, I have met some fantastic people, both in person and online. I’ve learned about writing and research and making a website. The whole experience has been an unimaginable odyssey that I could have never foreseen without the Titanic movie. It inspired all of us in many ways. Now however, I have reached the end of the line with Titanic fan fiction. Where Jack and Rose are concerned my writing is over. However, I do plan to continue to write some other short romantic stories. Right now I have a project from my work to complete. When that is finished in about a month, I hope to start writing again. I have my website that I am working on and the stories will appear there. You can find me online at www.shirleylieb.com Thanks to all of your for your support and friendship. It’s been wonderful. Keep in touch and let’s all of us keep writing!

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