Authors: Calvin Wade
“
I love you not only for what you ar
e, but for what I am when I am
with you. I love you not only for what
you have made of yourself, but
for what you are making of me. I love you for t
he part of me that you
bring out.
”
Now I know tonight has been a li
ttle unorthodox, but I want to
continue with the theme of doing things a little different
ly
. Many of y
ou
were at our wedding reception at Briar
s Hall and witnessed our first
dance, well now, whilst I still have the
strength to get around a dance
floor for three minutes, I want you to witness our
“
Last Dance
”
.
Jemma knows nothing about this, but I asked the DJ earlier whether
he has a lovely song by Natalie Merchant called
‘
My Beloved Wife
’
. The song is about an old widower looking back on the fifty wonderful
years he spent with his wife before she passed away. Every emotion in
the song expresses how I feel about my beloved wife, Jemma. I love you
so much Jemma and will never stop loving you!
DJ, if you could start the music and Jemma, if you cold be good
enough to steer me round the dancefloor for the duration of the song, I
will be eternally grateful!
Thanks once again everybody, please feel free to join us on the
dancefloor, enjoy the rest of the night and I hope the rest of your lives
are filled with health, wealth and happiness.
My family are around me now. Mum, Dad, Jim, Caroline, Helen
and Jemma. Sometimes I forgot where the kids are and I panic and ask
for them, but in moments of clarity I remember they are with Amy.
Better there than here.
I can feel Jemma holding my hand. S
he keeps talking. Keeps trying
to soothe the pain, constantly re-assuring me e
verything will be fine,
but I only hear some of what she says now as I slip in and out of
consciousness
I know I
’
m in hospital. I know they ha
ve put me in a side room, away
from the moans and groans of people with minor ailments. I know from the strange sounds emanating from my b
ody that this is the end. When
you make love, you reach a stage when
you know the orgasm is coming
and nothing can be done to stop it. That
’
s
the stage I have reached with
death now, it is coming and there is nothing I can do to stop it.
I want to sit up for one last time. I want to tell Jemma there is no
pain, just haze. Tell her not to worry. I try to move, to hoist myself up,
but nothing happens. Nothing at all. I release a deep sigh. There feels
like there
’
s little air left in my lungs now. I
’
m checking out, I know I
’
m
checking out. I
’
d love to stay, but I have already lost my grip on the cliff,
I
’
m just waiting to hit the ground.
A tear drips on to my face. I look up and Jemma
’
s tear filled eyes
are looking right down at me. I try to smi
le to comfort her, to tell her
not to be sad, that it will all be OK, but
even my lips are barely moving
now. With all my might, I try to squeeze Jemma
’
s hand and although
I think I manage to tighten slightly, I
’
m not sure it
’
s enough f
or her to
notice. I feel her kiss my dry lips. I feel a
depth of love I have only felt
before when I witnessed the birth of my
children. I want to tell Jemma
that I feel more for her than anyone h
as ever felt for another human
being, but I can
’
t. I
’
m so glad that I have b
een given the time to tell her
before. I only wish I had been given more time to show her.
My body jolts. It feels different, but I understand that it
’
s a new
phase. Not long now. I look at Jemm
a one last time. She gradually
disappears like the picture on an old tele
vision screen. I feel sadness.
Overwhelming sadness, then that fades t
oo. All I can see is a tunnel,
three dimensional, bizarrely reminiscent of the 1970
’
s credits to Doctor
Who. I
’
m moving along it. A bright white lig
ht at the end is forcing
me towards it like a magnet. This is th
e end. The very end. I thought
I would love Jemma forever but forever
is over. What lies beyond the
light? God only knows.