May 23, 1994

Becky's POV

It's been a few weeks since that perfect day I shared with all my family and friends, but now I'm having to face reality a little more. The Chemotherapy treatment is becoming vigorous, and honestly, it's killing me. It's becoming so tiring; attending these treatment sessions every other week. It doesn't help having to be cautious about my scar; it could open with any wrong movement.

The number of times I've had to go to the hospital lately has become ridiculous; it seems to be my second home, now. I've barely had any time with the kids, which I really want now, seeing as my time is more limited than we originally thought it would be. A year and a half isn't much, when you think about it.

At the moment, I'm in the house with Michael and the kids. It's been a while since we've had a normal day – just staying in – but really, I love it. It makes me feel like I don't have a terminal disease; I can just live normally.

I've also decided that I'll face the tough task of choosing the clothes I'll be buried in today, as well as the items that will be put in my coffin with me. Anything could happen now, so I'm taking no chances, and I'm thinking miles ahead. This is eighteen months we're talking about ... but anything could happen to make that change.

Michael's sitting behind me on the bed, watching my every move carefully. Part of me wants to turn around to look at him; to just kiss him like we used to when I was healthy and okay, but I'm afraid my future is kind of more important. He knows that, too, which is why he isn't saying a single word.

The bed is completely covered with clothing and accessories, as well as personal objects that I've collected over my years. It would be a lie to say that this is an easy task – in actual fact, it's one of the toughest things I've ever done, apart from aborting my baby and having to cope with the cancer.

My fingers brush over each garment, as my mind considers each one carefully. I'm asking myself the same question with everything in my sight: Would this be acceptable to wear to my own funeral? It's a terrible, horrible thought to have to hold within my mind, but I have to do it.

My eyes come into contact with a red dress – the one I wore for mine and Michael's first date at the lake not far from here. Gosh, this dress holds so many happy memories ... of times where the biggest worry was my mother being reluctant about our relationship – forcing us to have ten dates before we even started to consider being together. It seems so strange, but oh, how I miss those simpler times.

I also remember the kiss me and Michael shared in the water, after we had fallen in. The way his eyes met mine, before his hand reached up to slick my wet hair back. The way he gently leant his head against mine, before saying his signature line for the first ever time: "You give me such fever, girl ... ", before leaning in to kiss me. I remember stopping him, questioning his actions, and what my mother would say. It's also easy to remember his rebellious answer, "What your mother doesn't know, won't hurt her". But then, then, I remember the way he kissed my lips with such passion right after ... our silhouettes were easy to depict through the sunset's gorgeous rays.

Ah, memories.

"Sweetheart, what's up?" Michael suddenly asks, bringing me out of my trance. Was I really that deep in my own thoughts?

"Huh? Oh, nothing, nothing," I answer, "Just reminiscing ... do you remember this dress, Michael?" I lift it up to show him, causing his eyes to light up, as well as making him smile.

"Hell, I remember that dress. Our first date; the first time we made each other wet," he jokes. He then bursts out laughing, whereas I try my absolute hardest to appear serious, so he lets his laughter subside, "Sorry, I couldn't resist. We fell in the water, remember? I just—I—it was—yeah, okay." He finally gives in, biting his lip to reduce his large smile, and his visible amusement.

His sudden seriousness earns a laugh from me, finally ridding my own seriousness. "Michael, I almost managed to stay serious there!" I protest, slapping his arm playfully, "Thanks for ruining that for me!"

He then chuckles, pinching my side softly, making me yelp, "That's okay, sweetheart. Anything for you!" He reaches down to kiss the space between my eyes, which mellows my mood a little.

Soon, I return to my job of searching through my clothing. Maybe I could use the first date dress? At least it would add meaning and depth to the reason why I'll be wearing it, when my time comes. This dress represents the first time I felt happy after so much pain – and all thanks to Michael. He's changed my entire life for the better ... and I'll never forget that.

Part of me hopes that he finds love when I'm gone, but then the other part hopes he'll never forget me as long as he lives. After all, he's young, and he's a gorgeous, sexy man, with a beautiful heart, and just because I'm gone, that doesn't mean to say he has to be lonely for the rest of his life because he refuses to move on from me and love ever again. He deserves happiness after all the crap our relationship has put us through.

Knowing I'm going to die has really changed my perspective of life. Before I knew my cancer was terminal, I didn't really live my life to the fullest. Don't get me wrong, it was fun and exciting at times, but ... it was missing a lot. Now that my time is limited, it's brought out a sense of urgency within me to do as much as I can before it's too late. It's so strange.

It also overwhelms me. Once I'm gone, I'll have no knowledge of how the world is changing around me ... and that makes me sad. I always believed I would live to be over a hundred, and I would outlive everyone I know. Nope ... not a chance, now. It's going to hurt, being unable to see Miracle grow up into a beautiful young woman, or see Jason and Ollie grow up and move out, to start their own lives. It's also going to pain me, having no ability to see how Jasper and Charlie move on without me. Will they find a new best friend? Will their allegiance remain with Michael? Will they ... forget me?

My parents ... oh, how bad I feel for my parents. I'm their only child! They'll miss me the most, along with Michael, I believe. It brings tears to my eyes, thinking about how they'll react once they know I'm gone. It almost makes me happy that I won't be able to see the pain they'll be carrying; I can't bear to see either of them in pain.

Michael's arms wrapping around my waist from behind is the thing that draws me out of my extremely deep thought. He lightly kisses my jawline, stroking my cheeks with his fingers, "Don't cry, my little Sugar Blossom. Don't cry."

It then becomes obvious that he's stroking my face to rid my tears – I'm crying. I didn't even realise I had tears in my eyes, let along that I was crying. As for the nickname, I've never heard that one before. "Sugar Blossom". That's rather cute, to be honest.

"I'm sorry Michael ... I've just been thinking a lot," I answer after a few moments' silence. My fingers graze over the first date dress slowly, "So ... I've decided what I'll be wearing."

He gazes down at the dress, a thin layer of tears glazing his eyes over, "So many happy memories from that dress. That's such a beautiful choice, sweetheart." His hands carefully caress my sides, cautious not to touch my operation wound at all.

"Thank you Michael. That's kinda the reason why I chose it. Now I gotta pick the special objects," I reply. After placing all my other clothes away in the closet, I bring out a box of personal items, scattering them on the bed along with the items that are already there, "Help me choose this, Michael ... "

He lets his eyes scan the bed, looking at all the various objects that are here. "I like the idea of you having something of mine, sweetheart," he admits, "Something to remind you of me once you're in Heaven." Tears form once more in his eyes, but he tries to blink them back, "Don't want you forgetting about me that easy, do I?" He tries to lighten the mood, adding a small, hopeless chuckle after his question.

Before I can continue, I use my thumbs to dry his tears away, as they've started falling down his cheeks. I knew he was upset about this; it's natural for him to be, but I didn't realise it was killing him this much. All this time I've been focusing on myself, when really ... it should be the people who love me, that I focus on.

"I love you," I find myself telling him, pecking his nose gently.

He furrows his eyebrows and blinks in attempt to rid the tears, then swallows, "I love you, too. In fact, I love you more; more than even the most. It'll always be like that." He forces a smile to mask his pain, before leaning in to give me a quick kiss. Once we've pulled away from one another, he shifts his gaze back to the objects on the bed, "Now ... what item of mine would you want to take with you?"

I take a minute to consider the endless possibilities, "Gee ... I don't know. It really doesn't matter to me, as long as it will easily remind me of you, Michael." My fingers find their way to Michael's, and I lace them together, his on top of mine.

"Well, alright. I can choose for you," he decides. He stands himself up from the bed, before heading over to his personal drawer by the bed. After opening it and searching through a little, he brings out an object, "How about this?"

The object is a Stethoscope, which takes me slightly by surprise. I know he's a doctor, so it'll remind me of him being one ... but as a personal item to take to Heaven with me? Surely there's a reason behind it.

"It's a Stethoscope," I point out the obvious.

He laughs softly, "And there's logic behind this Stethoscope. Y'see, on that day you came to pay me a visit ... on the day we first kissed, I had to check your heart rate, remember?"

It takes a second to recall the memory, "Yeah, I remember. But ... you used your ear instead, which kinda caught me by surprise."

His cheeks are visibly tinted a light shade of pink, now. "Yeah, well ... this Stethoscope was the one I was meant to use that day ... but my flirting got the better of me. It's cos ... you're so beautiful and ... I needed to get closer to you. I guess my doctoring skills worked," he teases, handing me the Stethoscope, "So ... want it, or not?"

A small laugh escapes my lips, "Yes ... " I hold it within my hands, fingering the chest piece, "And that was such a cute little justification there," I add.

He joins me back on the bed, embracing me from behind, "Well, obviously you'll get more than a Stethoscope. But ... it's a start. There are other more personal things I want you to have." His lips gently touch upon my temple, sending shivers down my spine, "Stuff like photographs of our happiest memories ... you know, stuff like that."

A soft smile tugs at my lips, masking my real feelings of emotional pain, "I'd like that. I want as many memories as possible to take up to Heaven with me when I go ... "

"A year and a half is longer than you first imagine," Michael assures me quietly, obviously sensing that I'm hurting a little now. His fingers run slowly through my hair, "And when that year and a half is up, we've both got to keep each other in our hearts. Okay?"

"Of course ... even if you do find love again – cos I know you will, Michael," I breathe, a small feeling of grief inside of me.

Michael furrows his eyebrows, "Well, I don't know what will happen in my future. But you need to remember that you'll always have the largest piece of my heart, even if I do find someone new. Remember that, alright?"

I nod my head sadly, "Yeah ... and you'll always have my largest piece. Just ... when you're having fun and making memories with your new girl, don't forget me either ... please ... "

He nods, too, before allowing my head to rest against his chest, and nuzzling his head against mine.

"I'll never forget the girl who gave me a reason to live, sweetheart ... "

Gosh, only four chapters remain! It's going to fast for me! :(
According to my calculations, this story will end in 22 days! That's so sad. :(
I hope you enjoyed this chapter anyway. :)