Last night, the NaNoWriMo project came to an end for me, with the concluding sentences of Dear Samantha. It was a little bittersweet, and I admit to feeling a sense of loss as I said goodbye to the characters I had spent a huge amount of time thinking/writing about over the past six weeks. So, here is the last bit of the story...
Samantha opened the white shutters of her bedroom and looked out at the brilliant blue sky that would be her wedding canopy. She smiled, and said a silent prayer of gratitude for the shining sun. The large white tent fluttered gently in the June breeze, and she could see her mother busily checking the flower arrangements on the tables.
“Good,” Samantha thought. “Mom’s up, so the coffee’s done.” She slipped one of Philip’s denim shirts on over the extra large T-shirt she habitually slept in, and lightly skipped down the stairs to the kitchen. Quickly filling an oversized mug with her mother’s favorite imported Swedish coffee, she hurried back to her bedroom, hoping to have a few moments to herself before her mother burst in, insisting it was time to do hair and nails.
Samantha piled all her pillows against the headboard, and propped herself up against them, drawing her shapely legs underneath her. Setting her mug on the white wooden bedside table, she reached for the book of letters her grandmother had left her. Opening it to the back where the pages were blank, Samantha picked up a pen and began to write.
June 14, 2_____
Dear TT,
I’m here at Castle Beach, and you were right when you said it was a place I would love. It’s the most spectacularly beautiful day – the sun is shining brilliantly, making thousands of glittering sparkles on the lake. There are birds playing a marvelous symphony for me, and the sky is the exact color blue of my true love’s eyes.
I’m getting married today, TT, right there on the deck where you loved to sit, where you caught your last glimpse of life on this earth. Perhaps that should make me feel sad, or strange about getting married there. Actually, it’s just the opposite. That spectacular view gives me such a feeling of fulfillment, of all being right with the world, that I think it’s the perfect place for momentous occasions.
Just so you know, I have cherished the letters you wrote to me. Mom gave them to me when I turned 13, along with her favorite photograph of you – the one where you’re standing here on the deck, squinting slightly in the sun, with one hand holding the down the straw hat that was flapping in the wind blowing in off the lake. I went right up to my room and read them all the way through. Some of your life was a little shocking, TT! Between you and me, I was really surprised Mom let me read them when she did. I loved that you were so honest about your life – the good and the bad – as well as the mistakes you made. It made me feel better to know that I didn’t have to be perfect – sometimes Mom is so very perfect, isn’t she?
I really wish I could have met Ian. Mom said he returned to England after you died. He sent her cards on Christmas for a few years, and then just dropped out of touch. But I wanted you to know that I’m having a flutist playing for me today, in honor of his music, and his love for you.
My fiancé –soon to be my husband! – is a really good man, and he knows me inside out. He knows that sometimes I have a “dark night of the soul” as you called it. He’s very gentle with me during those times, and loves me even harder than usual. I don’t think I’m being naively romantic when I say I believe we will be in love forever. I know love changes over time, and with the experiences of life. I believe our love will survive those changes, and hopefully grow even stronger.
Philip and I each have passions in our lives, and I remember you writing about how important that was. My passion – it’s ballet, and I’m in the chorus of the Chicago Ballet Company. I love it so much – it fulfills my soul to be part of this moving work of art we call the ballet. Philip is a photographer – he freelances mostly, but is building his reputation as a dance photographer. After all, he has the perfect subject, doesn’t he?
I think it’s nearly time for me to get dressed. I’m beginning to hear more and more of a commotion down there in the front yard. My dress is gorgeous – it’s silk so white that it’s almost blue, a simple, sleeveless sheath that fits me to a T – oops, sorry for that bad pun, TT! I’m carrying white lilies, and wearing a pearl beaded tiara. I’m going to look smashing, if I do say so myself! Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that I had the seamstress sew a tiny pocket in the inner lining of the bodice, because I’m carrying the little stone heart you found for me that last spring you were here – you know the one that you painted your initials on.
I hear Mom coming up the stairs, so I’ll say goodbye – for now. You’ll be in my heart today, darling TT, as I have always felt I was in yours.
Love endlessly,
Samantha
Samantha opened the white shutters of her bedroom and looked out at the brilliant blue sky that would be her wedding canopy. She smiled, and said a silent prayer of gratitude for the shining sun. The large white tent fluttered gently in the June breeze, and she could see her mother busily checking the flower arrangements on the tables.
“Good,” Samantha thought. “Mom’s up, so the coffee’s done.” She slipped one of Philip’s denim shirts on over the extra large T-shirt she habitually slept in, and lightly skipped down the stairs to the kitchen. Quickly filling an oversized mug with her mother’s favorite imported Swedish coffee, she hurried back to her bedroom, hoping to have a few moments to herself before her mother burst in, insisting it was time to do hair and nails.
Samantha piled all her pillows against the headboard, and propped herself up against them, drawing her shapely legs underneath her. Setting her mug on the white wooden bedside table, she reached for the book of letters her grandmother had left her. Opening it to the back where the pages were blank, Samantha picked up a pen and began to write.
June 14, 2_____
Dear TT,
I’m here at Castle Beach, and you were right when you said it was a place I would love. It’s the most spectacularly beautiful day – the sun is shining brilliantly, making thousands of glittering sparkles on the lake. There are birds playing a marvelous symphony for me, and the sky is the exact color blue of my true love’s eyes.
I’m getting married today, TT, right there on the deck where you loved to sit, where you caught your last glimpse of life on this earth. Perhaps that should make me feel sad, or strange about getting married there. Actually, it’s just the opposite. That spectacular view gives me such a feeling of fulfillment, of all being right with the world, that I think it’s the perfect place for momentous occasions.
Just so you know, I have cherished the letters you wrote to me. Mom gave them to me when I turned 13, along with her favorite photograph of you – the one where you’re standing here on the deck, squinting slightly in the sun, with one hand holding the down the straw hat that was flapping in the wind blowing in off the lake. I went right up to my room and read them all the way through. Some of your life was a little shocking, TT! Between you and me, I was really surprised Mom let me read them when she did. I loved that you were so honest about your life – the good and the bad – as well as the mistakes you made. It made me feel better to know that I didn’t have to be perfect – sometimes Mom is so very perfect, isn’t she?
I really wish I could have met Ian. Mom said he returned to England after you died. He sent her cards on Christmas for a few years, and then just dropped out of touch. But I wanted you to know that I’m having a flutist playing for me today, in honor of his music, and his love for you.
My fiancé –soon to be my husband! – is a really good man, and he knows me inside out. He knows that sometimes I have a “dark night of the soul” as you called it. He’s very gentle with me during those times, and loves me even harder than usual. I don’t think I’m being naively romantic when I say I believe we will be in love forever. I know love changes over time, and with the experiences of life. I believe our love will survive those changes, and hopefully grow even stronger.
Philip and I each have passions in our lives, and I remember you writing about how important that was. My passion – it’s ballet, and I’m in the chorus of the Chicago Ballet Company. I love it so much – it fulfills my soul to be part of this moving work of art we call the ballet. Philip is a photographer – he freelances mostly, but is building his reputation as a dance photographer. After all, he has the perfect subject, doesn’t he?
I think it’s nearly time for me to get dressed. I’m beginning to hear more and more of a commotion down there in the front yard. My dress is gorgeous – it’s silk so white that it’s almost blue, a simple, sleeveless sheath that fits me to a T – oops, sorry for that bad pun, TT! I’m carrying white lilies, and wearing a pearl beaded tiara. I’m going to look smashing, if I do say so myself! Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that I had the seamstress sew a tiny pocket in the inner lining of the bodice, because I’m carrying the little stone heart you found for me that last spring you were here – you know the one that you painted your initials on.
I hear Mom coming up the stairs, so I’ll say goodbye – for now. You’ll be in my heart today, darling TT, as I have always felt I was in yours.
Love endlessly,
Samantha
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