My Last Kiss

Copyright © 2013 W. L. Sivers.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WestBow Press books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

1-(866) 928-1240

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4497-9398-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-9399-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013907857

WestBow Press rev. date: 05/06/2013

Contents

Preface

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

To my lovely angels: Jessi and Amanda

May you always be able to love others, respect everyone for who God made them to be, and laugh at life with real joy.

Preface

T here is a purpose for every book written. Whether it is for entertainment, education, or enlightenment. At first glance, you will realize this book is a novel and consider its entertainment value. But look closer: get involved in its characters and their lives. It is more than just a story about a man, his wife and his children. This book is about someone’s life. It could be anyone’s life: yours, mine the neighbor on the next block.

This book is about relationships with the Creator of the universe. Every person has a relationship with God. For those that won’t accept Him, but know of His existence, it is a hate relationship. For the unsure, it is an avoidance relationship. For those who trust Him with their lives, it is a love relationship.

This book is intended to touch your emotions, to wake your inner feelings about life and death and the space in between. It might make you smile, it might make you cry. But I pray that it will make you think. I pray that it will make you choose life everlasting, so I might meet you in the clouds on the way to Heaven.

Introduction

I watched as the beautiful white bird glided above me. The sun glinted off his flight feathers as the wind lifted him in soaring circles again and again. I could imagine his head tilting back and forth in search of movement below.

He sure is beautiful. My son breathed with a smile.

That he is, I responded. Just one of God’s many blessings to us.

Corey stood, and placing his strong hands on my wheelchair, he began pushing me back home. I thought about my son; the infant, the boy, the man. Sadness would come with the end. There would be more pain, disappointment, maybe even bitterness. But there was security in my mind now, a peace on my heart. I could rest on the Lord; knowing that Jesus would be there for my family. They would no longer hesitate to lean on Him. They could depend on His love to carry them through, as I was depending on His grace to carry me to eternal life.

When the last moment came, when there was no more fight left in me, I could go with tranquility. I could pass to my family the legacy of everlasting love; with my last kiss.

Chapter One

I heard the door slam before I could arrange my thoughts. Corey sauntered into the living room and slumped onto the sofa.

What’s new? I asked, hoping to draw my son into conversation.

Not much. Corey paused, taking a deep breath. Dad, could I go fishing with Josh and his dad?

Envy began to creep into my heart and I mentally shoved it aside. I had always wanted Corey to do things with me. Sports or travel, or something. But with each passing year, we grew further apart.

Sure Corey, what day are they going? I answered, trying to hide any reservations.

Saturday morning, we have to leave his house at 6:00. Josh said maybe I could learn to fish and even catch something.

Hey, I’d like to see you do that myself, Corey. I hoped he would notice my enthusiasm.

What if mom is busy though? asked Corey, looking doubtful about a ride to Josh’s house.

I can take you, I don’t have anything going on.

Corey looked at me with skepticism. I thought you were working overtime, he said, while still seated on the sofa. I had wandered to the window, catching my thoughts drifting away from the conversation, I shook my head abruptly.

No, I don’t need to. I confessed; I caught up on work yesterday.

Corey stood suddenly, What if Josh’s dad says it’s okay if you come with us?

Oh, I don’t know, Corey. I don’t want to infringe on anyone.

I don’t think he’ll mind, he’s a great guy!

Now the envy threatened to wash over me, swallowing me like an ocean wave.

How many years had I dreamt of Corey saying things like that about me. I wondered if, when talking to his friends, he used strong, negative language about his dad. I could just hear his words now; saying what a bad father I was.

I’ll go call Josh now. said Corey, bounding from the room and bringing me back to reality. In the end it was settled. Ray, Josh’s father was generous in his offer for Corey and I to both go fishing. Ray fished often enough that he was good at it and had taught Josh over the years.

Why had it seemed so important at the time, my son’s relationship with his friend’s father? Was there something in the mix that was missing in Corey’s connection with me? There were moments when it seemed the only thing he and I possessed together was confrontation. The only thing we had in common was our gene pool. Every parent, I was sure, went through rough spots in their lives, differences of opinion. My son and I didn’t agree on anything, especially not compromise.

The memory of the fishing trip came back to me in the far reaches of my mind. As things turned out, the four of us went fishing and it turned out okay. The boys had a good time, and I must confess: it changed my life.

The drive to the lake was peaceful. It was quiet between us grown men. I didn’t know Ray well at all. I had met Core’s friend a few times at school, but not Josh’s parents. The boys chatted and joked in the back seat, laughing about life in general.

I’m kinda looking forward to school starting again.

I’m not, I don’t want to start physics and I know I have to.

What about that new PE teacher for the girls? enquired Josh, Have you seen her?

I hear she’s hot. was Corey’s response. Coming from my son, I would have expected more caution with me in the car, but he must have forgotten I was there. I glared at him over the back of the seat.

Sorry, Dad. he said, blushing from collar to hairline. I drifted off into my thoughts then; wondering when his mother had stopped being hot to me. When had the passion in our relationship died: was it when we lost Rosemarie? Our precious, beautiful child. She had been so gentle, so innocent.

I watched out the window as the mountains and skyline drifted past our vehicle. The day couldn’t have been more inviting. The sky was a deep blue with big, cotton ball clouds. The higher the blacktop climbed, the deeper green the trees seemed to be. The air looked crisp and clean. Patches of color crept past the wheels as meadows stretched into woods, and all became one with the sky.

Around one last bend the truck rolled, and ahead of us lay a beautiful valley with the bluest lake I had ever seen. It spread before us like a mini ocean. Cliffs and jagged peaks lined the opposite shoreline. Large birds of prey drifted on the upper air currents, throwing their screeches down the valley, trying to rouse some breakfast.

Ray parked the truck along the rock strewn shore, making sure the vehicle was in the sun.

If you park in the shade here, the car doesn’t stay warm, he explained. I like it to be warm when it’s time to go home.

We unloaded the fishing gear. Things had been packed in four tackle boxes. With each of us toting our own box, pole and chair, we could split up in four stations along the shoreline. I wasn’t sure about this fishing thing. I had never