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Nina's Goodbye

A daughter's loss

By Francesca Riggs Published 3 years ago 10 min read
Top Story - January 2021
40

“Mommy!” The scream wakes me with a start. The room pitch black, silent. For a moment I think the scream was just my own bad dream, it wouldn’t be the first one. Since Lizzie passed away, I’ve had them on and off, so has Nina, my little niece asleep in the room across the hall. I’ll never get rid of the image of her clinging to her mom in the ER. Demanding her to wake up. Begging the doctors to bring her back. Cooper, stroking her back and pulling her to him. Trying to explain to a four-year-old why that wasn’t possible. I didn’t think I could fall apart any more than I had when we’d been told my baby sister had died from the accident, but every bone in my body gave out watching Ninas world fall away from her so fast. That was a year ago, Cooper and I were all she had now.

Cooper, his side of the bed empty, the sheets tossed back like he’d jumped out in a hurry. “Mommy wake up!” It wasn’t a dream. At least not mine. Flinging the covers off and ignoring the coldness of the house, I run into my nieces’ room and find her shaking against my husbands chest. Her little fists, smacking against him as tears stream down her face. She’s not alone, I can see tears welling in Cooper too. His ice blue eyes shining in the darkness as he strokes her hair lightly with one hand, whilst his other holds her tightly too him.

“It’s OK kitten I’ve got you. You’re OK. Come back to us” he mutters in her ear, over and over again. “Wake her up” she whimpers into his chest, “Uncle Coop wake her up.” That’s when the tear falls for him. Uncle Coop, he’d always been her favorite. Stepping in when her dad took off. Going to the daddy and daughter picnic her school had when she started, teaching her how to ride her bike. Anything she’d wanted after that day she’d lost her dad; Cooper had seen it done. My husband is an amazing man. But that, waking up her mum after she’d passed away, was a request even he couldn’t give to her.

Crossing the room to the bed, I kneel down beside them. Running my own hand up and down her back. “I’m here sweetie” I whisper to her, my other hand resting on top of Coopers, who instantly grasps my fingers in his own. I gave up a long time ago, trying to figure out which one of us was supporting the other. Lizzies death had destroyed us both. We’d been together since we were sixteen, now we were in our early thirties. Lizzie had become as much his sister as she was mine. Locking my eyes with his, I feel my own tears fall on to my cheeks as Ninas fists stop flying and she sinks into his chest, her sobs calming down. “You’re OK Kitten,” I mutter, squeezing his hand back with my own. Returning my gaze to the little girl curled into him. Her little face no longer scrunched up but soft, her eyes fluttering open slowly.

“Hi little one” I say gently, resting my head on the other side of Coopers chest so that I’m level with her. She’s still half asleep, exhaustion etched across her tiny features. There’s a faint smell of urine now that I’m closer to her. Running my hand further down her back, I feel the dampness of her cotton shorts. “I’m sorry” she squeaks, as she registers the wetness herself. “You don’t need to apologize for anything Kitten. It happens to all of us sometimes when we’re scared and upset” Cooper assures her, planting a small kiss on her jet-black hair. “Let’s get you changed and we’ll go get in our bed for the night” I whisper, as she stretches out her little arms to come to me. “OK” she answers quietly, her eyes already drooping back to sleep.

Coopers back in bed when I carry Nina and her toy dolphin into the room. He pulls the sheet back and over us as we settle in. His arms coming around me as I nestle further back against his chest, taking comfort in his warmth and the steady beat of his heart against my back. Pulling Nina closer to me and settling her dolphin in front of her, I can’t stop the small sigh that comes out as I feel the softness of his lips against my temple. “We will get her there Sweetness, I promise” he murmurs quietly so as not to wake her. “I know” I reply, twisting myself slightly to see his face, “I just hate that she didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Lizzie and I never got to say goodbye to our own mother, a pain that has never really gone away, and we were adults. Nina was only four. She couldn’t even say goodbye at the funeral, none of us could. She’d gotten so upset on the day that she was throwing up constantly. As such, we’d missed it, leaving my very distant Aunt Sharon to be the point of contact. I hated knowing my sister was being cremated, surrounded by mostly strangers. She’d had a lot of friends, but Aunt Sharon was the only other family member we had, and we very rarely saw her. But Nina came first. Lizzie would have wanted us with her instead, and I know that deep down, she wouldn’t have wanted Nina there anyway. But I know that our little kitten needs closure. I’m just not sure how to get it for her.

“I think we can” Cooper says softly, shifting his position so that he’s sitting up. Glancing across to our little bed guest, it’s clear that she’s out for the count. Her little mouth tugged into a tiny smile; all traces of her night terror gone. Turning on the lamp next to him he pulls out a small black notebook from the draw and tugs me to his side so I can see what he’s holding. Nina still cuddled up under the blankets, squeezing her dolphin tight. “I found this earlier, in one of the boxes from Lizzies place. It looks like she was using it as a holiday planner” he explains, flipping it open. On the front page is a drawing, a beautiful sunset over the sea, complete with palm trees and jumping dolphins. Hawaii, traced in calligraphy underneath it. “I think she was planning to take Nina” Cooper continues, flicking through the pages, each one filled with photos and information. Hotels, activities, island names. The final one is a price list. The name of a single hotel listed, its price next to it for a two-week vacation, chosen activities underneath with their prices, and a total. One activity is jumping out at me, swimming with dolphins. Nina loves dolphins, we’d adopted her one at Christmas, she’d called it Lizzie, for her mom.

“I was thinking we should take her” Cooper says, glancing across at the little lump under the covers. “Tell her it was what her mum wanted to do, give her a dream vacation, that she’ll be watching her do all of the things she had planned for her. Then we can spread her ashes there, so she’ll always be on holiday. That way Nina can always go back to holiday with her mom.” This man. Never in a million years would I have survived the past twelve months without him. Taking in his sleep mussed, sandy blond hair, his high cheek bones and piercing blue eyes, I can’t help but let the tears flow down my cheeks. It’s a perfect goodbye.

“We can use the $20,000 from her life insurance” I say in agreement, “It’s enough to do everything on her list and then some, and that way it really is Lizzies last gift to her.” Cooper nods, closing the book and placing it back in the draw, turning off the light. He shifts us both back under the covers and turns me back to Nina who I instinctively pull closer to me again, just as he does the same to me. “I agree. I know we said we’d put it away for Nina but, she’s got the account you set up for her and, it’s not like she’s going to want for anything between the two of us.” He’s right, the account I’d started when Nina was born already had $7,000 in it, she’d have a healthy amount in there when she turned twenty-one. Both Cooper and I were paid very well, Nina wouldn’t struggle one little bit financially. “We’ll tell her tomorrow” I tell him, turning my head to him once more, “I love you, Coop.” Placing another kiss on my temple he pulls the cover tighter to us, “I love you too Sweetness.”

6 months later.

Standing on the deck of our hired boat looking out at the Honolulu sunset, it’s hard to imagine being back at work next week. We’d done everything on Lizzies list. Swam with dolphins, gone on a helicopter ride, taken a cruise to some of the other islands. This was our last little trip. Our main trip. Our goodbye.

For the first time in eighteen months, we’ve gone two whole weeks without Nina having a nightmare. No wet beds, no strangled teddy bears, no tears. Just a happy little girl having one final trip with her mum watching over her. I’ve been dreading this moment. The last thing I want is for this to ruin her whole holiday, but our Nina has surprised me this vacation. She’s brought her toy dolphin on every outing, naming it Lizzie after the one we’d adopted, after her mom. And at the start and end of each day, she’d told ‘Lizzie’ what we’d be doing and what we’d done. Then tucked her in besides her and said “Goodnight mommy”. This trip was no different, Lizzie the dolphin was being held tight whilst the three of us stood watching the real things jumping out of the water.

The only difference was that this morning, Nina had told her dolphin it was their last day together. That tonight, it was time to say goodbye. The boats engine comes to a halt, and the man behind the wheel steps away from us with a nod, “Let me know when you’re ready” and disappears to the back, giving us the privacy to say goodbye. As I pick up Nina, Cooper delicately unpacks the urn holding Lizzie. I can tell both of us are fighting tears, but Nina simply smiles at the jar as Cooper holds it over the side of the boat and takes off the top.

“Bye mummy” she says happily, “enjoy your holiday. We’ll come visit soon” with that she drops her little toy over the side. I automatically reach out to grab it but too late, the soft toy floating on the water next to the boat. I look over at Cooper who has the same surprised face as me, both of us turning to Nina, who looks between us smiling. “You have to let mummy go with her” she says, “or she won’t have any friends. Now she’s not alone, she has Lizzie, and all the other dolphins.” She points out to the sea where they’re all still jumping about. Nina, it appeared, was sad that her mom was scared and alone, now, she had loads of dolphin friends to keep her company.

Smiling at Cooper, who has come closer to us and looped his free arm around us both, I simply nod, telling him it’s ok to start letting Lizzie go. With one squeeze around my shoulders, he slowly tips, and gently starts shaking the urn, Lizzie drifting out to join Ninas toy. “Bye sis” I whisper, quoting Nina as she settles in the water, “we’ll come visit soon.”

grief
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About the Creator

Francesca Riggs

I started writing during our first national lockdown here in the UK and have published my first novel on Amazon. Designed as 1 of 5, Dropping Anchor, is the first in the Friends of Hudson Bay romance series.

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