FALLING STARS
Chapter Thirty-Seven
December, 1975
Rose finished washing the last of the baking
sheets and stretched, glad to be done. It was almost Christmas, and friends and
relatives had been dropping by almost every day, bringing cookies or fruitcake
or other Christmas goodies. Rose had decided that it was time to return the
favor, and had been baking since early morning. It was now late afternoon, and
the sun had set outside the kitchen window half an hour ago.
Nibbling on a cookie, Rose went to see what
Cal was doing. He had been watching sports on television when she had last seen
him, just after lunch--or trying to, anyway. His eyesight was growing worse all
the time.
Rose wandered into the living room, a plate
of cookies in her hand, to where Cal was sitting in an easy chair, still
watching television. She had never quite understood what it was that men liked
so much about sports--she had never found it too terribly interesting herself--but
she didn’t argue about it.
Sitting down in another easy chair next to
Cal’s, Rose offered him the plate of cookies. He squinted at her for a moment
before accepting one, then absentmindedly set the plate on the arm of the
chair, almost dropping it on the floor.
Quickly, Rose took the plate from him. Cal
was always absentminded when he was thinking about something else. One of her
friends had suggested that it might be a sign of senility, but Rose doubted it.
He had always been that way, as long as she could remember. When they had
sailed on the Titanic, she had seen the puzzled looks of maids who found such
items as champagne glasses and boxes of matches in odd places, courtesy of Cal
setting things down and forgetting about them. He hadn’t changed any with the
passage of time, although now he was more inclined to misplace his false teeth
or his glasses. Rose couldn’t help but laugh when she found them in strange
places, such as the refrigerator or the silverware drawer.
Cal reached over and took Rose’s hand,
smiling at her briefly before returning his attention to the game. Rose
squeezed his hand, and settled back in her chair, trying to understand what was
happening on the television.
They had recently celebrated their fourth
anniversary, and Rose had never regretted her decision to marry Cal. It would
have been a disaster when they were young, but in their older years they had
learned to tolerate each other. Not that things had been completely calm, of
course. They had gained maturity and mellowed out with time, but not
completely. They had had their share of spats over the years. They did love
each other, but it didn’t stop them from occasionally getting on each other’s
nerves.
Still, for the most part, life had been good.
They had gone on a brief honeymoon in Florida after their wedding, returning in
time to usher in the new year with their families. Since they had both remained
in reasonably good health, they had traveled some, including, at Cal’s
insistence, a cruise to Europe in 1973. They hadn’t been there together since
1912, although Rose had been back twice before, once in 1939 and once in 1960,
and Cal had been there once, on business, in 1925.
The previous February, Cal had surprised Rose
by arranging a family reunion for her eightieth birthday, somehow convincing
all of her busy children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren to convene in
Philadelphia for the celebration. It was the first time in years that they had
all been together in one place, and Rose had taken dozens of pictures, thrilled
at having them all together again.
But the passage of time was beginning to
catch up to them, or, at least, it was beginning to catch up to Cal. Rose felt
as strong and healthy as she had been ten or fifteen years earlier, but old age
was finally catching up to Cal. At ninety-three, he once again used a cane to
get around, and his eyesight was failing. Glaucoma, the doctor had said, for
which there was no treatment. Harry had tried to convince Cal to try marijuana
for the glaucoma, insisting that it could help, but Rose and Cal had simply
pretended they hadn’t heard that.
Rose was still in good health. Her heart beat
strongly, with no sign of weakness or disease, she could still walk long
distances, and she suffered only slightly from the aches and pains of old age.
Her eyesight was good--she only wore glasses to read small print--and she even
had all of her own teeth. She had a touch of arthritis, and her hearing wasn’t
quite as good as when she was younger, but she was still doing well.
Cal, on the other hand, was not doing so
well. In addition to the glaucoma and the difficulty in getting around, he
seemed to catch every ailment going around, and Rose had stopped letting people
visit if they were getting over a cold or influenza. The last cold he had
caught, in November, had turned into pneumonia, and he had barely pulled
through. Rose had spent Thanksgiving at the hospital with him, though it wasn’t
much of a celebration. He had finally been allowed to go home, but he still had
a terrible cough, especially in the cold, damp December weather.
*****
Two days before Christmas, Cal’s health took
a turn for the worse, the cough that had never quite gone away progressing
again into pneumonia. His doctor put him back in the hospital, but it quickly
became apparent that the medicines he was being given weren’t doing any good.
Rose was at his side almost constantly,
holding his hand as he struggled to breathe with the help of machines. His
temperature rose, and there were times when he was so delirious he didn’t
realize she was there. At other times, however, he was grateful for her
presence, for her refusal to leave his side. The struggle to breathe was so
great that he couldn’t speak to tell her, but it was all right. She knew. She
spoke for him, reminiscing about past times, talking about their families and
friends.
Several members of the family came to visit,
those who were living nearby, and on Christmas Eve Nathan drove down from New
York City to see his father. He sat beside him for a long time, talking to him,
before going to stay with Gregory and Emily for the night.
The end came on Christmas Day, early in the
afternoon. Rose had just returned to the hospital, after being convinced by
Emily to go home and rest for a few hours. Gregory, Emily, Nathan, and Gina
were all there, gathered around Cal’s bed, when she arrived.
The doctor walked away, shaking her head,
knowing there was nothing she could do for him. A nurse’s assistant was nearby,
but she stood back, letting the family members say good-bye. Cal was still
alive, but it was obvious that the end was near.
Gina was sitting beside him, showing her
grandfather a photograph that she had won an award for. Cal squeezed Gina’s
hand, congratulating her on her success. Emily and Nathan hovered over him, as
though if they turned their attention elsewhere for even a moment, he would
slip away.
Cal’s expression changed when he saw Rose
standing beside him, to a look of relief. He had feared that he wouldn’t live
long enough to say good-bye to her, but she was there. Struggling to breathe,
he managed to speak a few words.
"Rose..."
"What is it, Cal?"
"You...came back."
"Of course I did. I wasn’t going to
leave you. Not now."
"Thank...you." He struggled for
another breath. "I...need...tell you...something."
Rose took his hand, waiting for whatever he
had to say.
"I...love you. Always...have. Since
we...were young. Sorry...I didn’t tell...then...I...treated you...bad."
Rose leaned close to him. "There’s
nothing to be sorry for, Cal. It was a long time ago. We were both young and
hotheaded. We grew up. I’ve never regretted marrying you, though we’ve had only
four years together." Her eyes filled with tears. "I...love you,
Cal."
She looked at him as he struggled to get
enough air, to take another breath, paying no attention to the family members
gathered around them.
"You...were right...to leave me...for
Jack. He...loved you...and gave you...everything I never could."
"I think he knew, Cal, when I married
you. I...thought I saw him there, watching. He approved."
"You...should have spent the...years
with him. The last four years...have been the best of my life...but he was
always there...for you."
"I’ve loved you these last few years,
Cal. I loved Jack with everything in me, but...he’s gone. He’s been gone for
over five years. I didn’t dwell on his memory. He’s still in my heart,
yes...but so are you."
"He...wouldn’t have wanted you...to
dwell on him. I know...more...than you think. You were...a part of...each
other...in a way that...you and I...never were. He’s...waiting...for you.
I’ll...make sure...you find each other...when it’s time."
"Cal..." Rose leaned down to
embrace him, unmindful of the tears flowing down her cheeks. He hugged her
back--and then his arms dropped to his sides, and it was over.
She straightened, looking around at the
family members gathered around them. Emily was crying, clinging to Gregory, and
Nathan was staring at his father as though he couldn’t quite believe that he
was gone. Gina came up and hugged her grandmother, trying to comfort her, as
all of them mourned for the man who, despite having made many mistakes in his
life, had been loved and cared for by them all.