A kiss from Martha

Butcher was ninety-eight and on his deathbed, surrounded by machines, a roommate, a horrible view, and a television with nothing on it that he wanted to watch, he lay there, reminiscing about his first kiss.

The annual carnival was coming to town, and he had scraped and saved just enough to treat Martha, his soon-to-be wife, to a date. They shared a soda, nibbled on some popcorn and cotton candy, and strolled arm in arm.

“Feeling lucky lover boy?” shouted the carny directly towards Butcher.

He was, he thought, as he smiled at his beautiful companion. With five contestants on the ready, Butcher handed Martha the bag of popcorn and stick of candy before wiping his hands and grabbing the water pistol. He cocked his head, squinted one eye, and aimed at the target. Seconds later, his luck continued as the carny replied, 'Congratulations,' before handing him his choice of prize. A large stuffed elephant which he promptly handed to his date.

Full of joy, she dropped the treats, hugged him, and gave him a big fat (his first) kiss. 

On the lips. 

“Just keep giving her prizes,” he thought, as he held her tight. 

After sixty-three years of marriage, Martha died eleven years ago. And as she laid in her casket, adorned with her Sunday best including her favorite pearls, Butcher bent over and gave her a loving kiss on her lips.

His last. 

***

'Get a dog,' his daughter Brenda relayed to him as she had noticed a decline in his health immediately following his wife’s death. She was concerned of course and knew that her father just needed a companion, someone else to take care of.

He had been a professor of English for years. Now tenured, he has been enjoying retirement since the age of fifty. They traveled the world, a decision made on their return trip from Martha’s doctor when she was first informed. 

Malignant. 

That next morning, they were headed to Greece. Soon, it was Thailand, Egypt, Spain, Australia, South America, and of course, all over the U.S. They traveled abundantly until Martha could no longer keep up. The last three months were difficult as Butcher never left his wife’s side. With love, he took care of his wife valiantly until her last breath. 

His wife was his world so, what other name to give a soon-to-be shedding and clingy Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. His daughter persisted and talked him into it. 

“Another mouth to feed,” he grumbled as he scooped up the puppy and stared into its sad-looking eyes.

Within 2 years, she was diagnosed with syringomyelia. And six years after that, her front two legs were paralyzed; she could no longer walk. 

Yet, he took care of Martha as tenderly as his wife even though his health had begun to deteriorate. He would forget to take his medicine, or what day it was. He’d wear different colored socks or his sweater inside out. And would stumble more frequently complaining of headaches while never wanting to see a doctor. Regardless of his diminishing health, Martha was always well taken care of. 

Then the stroke. 

It’s been 3 months since he’d been home as he now spends most of his time in bed and being taken care of. He didn’t want to go out like this but with no strength, he had no choice. At least he’s comfortable, he thought. 

With only time on his hands, he remembered his parents and how they drove him to be successful. If there’s a heaven above, he’d thank them for that. He got sad thinking of his daughter and how he wished maybe he and Martha should’ve given her a little brother or sister just to ease the burden she must now be going through. 

But wherever his mind went, his thoughts always veered back to Martha so as he lay there thinking, his eyes teared, missing her. 

“I’m ready,” he concluded, as he glanced out at the construction crew working on the roof across the street.  

He closed his eyes, hoping it would be for the last time. ‘How do you encourage death,’ he thought to himself as he chuckled wondering if that’s possible. He felt the end was near knowing he’d never visit his home again, teach again, learn again, or even laugh again. His happiness lay on the other side he hoped, as his faith grew stronger. 

Martha had been depressed ever since Butcher had gone to the hospital, so Brenda consciously tried to comfort her. She took her out for some extra sun, fed her her favorite foods, and even massaged her joints just like how she saw her dad do. Martha’s tail would wag but without the same enthusiasm as when Butcher was in her presence. 

“Hey Brenda, this is Doctor Charles, I’m saddened to say but I think you should come see your dad.” 

The call she dreaded brought her unexpected tears and although she hurried, she took her time, ensuring that everything was taken care of. She showered, changed, and sat in her car letting the tears stream down her face. She forgot her phone, luckily remembering, as she headed back inside. 

“Woof!” 

She smiled, wondering if Martha knew. She stared at the Spaniel, smiling as she saw the excitement in her barks. ‘Why not,’ she thought, as she scooped up her dad’s dog, and together, they traveled to the hospital. 

No crate, she allowed Martha to ride up front. Tail wagging, tongue hanging out, woofing like never before, Martha seemed to know what was going on. She hadn’t seen her companion in over 3 months and now they were to be reunited. 

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” she replied to the doctor as he had called again to ensure she was on the way. 

He met them at the door as they hustled to her father’s bedside. Heading towards hospice, no one questioned the existence of Martha as they boarded the elevator to the 5th floor. 

“You know, I took your father’s class when I was in college. Great man.” Doctor Charles relayed to Brenda as the elevator dinged and they exited. 

Martha headed straight towards Room 514. 

No one knows what near death brings but I can only assume that Butcher heard Martha’s wheels hurrying down the hall. She barked as she stood next to his bed. She couldn’t jump so when Brenda entered, she lifted the little lady and sat her on Butcher’s stomach. She swore she saw a smile develop on her father’s face as Martha licked about his ears, cheeks, eyes, and ultimately his lips. 

His last kiss.