Twice in a Lifetime  an anthology of sequels to Chances Are

From Marta’s Chance

“You will be okay….I am going to take some time to visit my parents in Krakow and then I will be returning here, but not to work. I am going to get married.”

“Wife? Yes…oh yes….”

St. Barnabas Hospital, Livingston, New Jersey…a few years later

“So it’s decided? And I don’t get a say in this,”

Dagmara pretended to pout. Of course she was glad for the gift that she was about to receive, even if it meant risk for both her and Marta. It’s rare to find donors who are compatible in such a short time; much less someone in our own family. That she and Marta shared enough markers for a transplant was truly amazing.

“You don’t have to do this.” She protested; not to put off Marta’s concern but to instead let her know that nothing between them was an obligation. Marta just smiled and leaned closer to kiss her wife…domestic partner, actually. Nothing yet on that front other than that everyone seemed to hedge their bets regarding any position; preferring to allow someone other than themselves to make a decision that should have been decided decades before.

“It will be my honor and my privilege, moja droga.” It would prove to be an honor and a privilege, but in much more in ways that would be far reaching and eternal.

Ostatni
(The Last)

Zatańcz ze mną jeszcze raz
Otul twarzą moją twarz
Co z nami będzie? - za oknem świt
Tak nam dobrze mogło być

Gdy ciebie zabraknie i ziemia rozstąpi się
W nicości trwam
Gdy kiedyś odejdziesz
Nas już nie będzie i siebie nie znajdziesz też *

The Issaksen home, two years later….

Marta lay on her side, facing away from Dagmara; her face etched with sadness. Dagmara arose from the bed walked over and hit the advance on the player. Soon the sounds of gentle rainfall were replaced by a romantic lament, She walked back to the bed and lifted Marta to her feet. Placing her right arm around Marta’s waist, she lifted Marta’s right hand; her head tilting slightly.

“Pochodzą ze mną tańczyć…Let me lead? I’ll be gentle, moja milosci,” she said with a smile. Marta pulled away and walked back to the bed.

“It’s … “ Marta sat down and shook her head in sad disbelief. After every bit of struggle and sacrifice she had made every effort had been in vain. At least she thought that way.

“Don’t be sad… it gave us more time than we could have hoped for.” Dagmara’s matter-of-fact explanation for the prognosis did nothing to comfort her wife, and Marta put her hand to her face as she shook her head lightly. A second later she felt Dagmara’s lips kiss her hand as she gently pulled it away from Marta’s face; revealing more sadness than she had ever seen.

“We still have time, moja droga. Just not as much as we’d like.”

“No….this is wrong. It’s not how it was supposed to be…It’s not fair!” Marta protested. The ache of the procedure was long past even, but the doubts and guilt remained. It was as if it was Marta’s fault that the donor cells failed; science and technology be damned. she had failed.

“But Marta? There is no such thing as fair. We live in a cruel world filled with flawed people trying their best to make it better. Have you not made my life better? If life had been fair, you would never have met me because you would have had a different life. But if you had an easier life you would not be the same person. Would you care as much about the children you help at the clinic? Would you have volunteered to go to Haiti? Would you even have loved me?

“I would have loved you…in a thousand lifetimes….” Dagmara smiled at Marta’s words.

“Yes, I do believe you would have, but would I have loved you? We shall never know, but I love you now ….today… and that is all that matters.” She giggled slightly as she kissed Marta’s hand once again, giving her a ticklish shock.

“Stop…this is…no time…” Marta protested as Dagmara pushed her back on the bed, turning her attention to the sensitive places on Marta’s rib cage. Words mixed with laughter and tears as the two continued to roll on the bed; tickling each other to hysterics. Dagmara kissed Marta full on; much more amorous than the moment would have promised but exactly what the moment required. She pushed her hand through Marta’s hair and laughed.

“You need to get to the hairdresser, kochanie.” She ran her hand over her own scalp, feeling the short brush that barely covered her head.

“I’m lucky, moja żona …. No such worries, yes?” What had she had intended to be a light moment turned dark in an instant as Marta stared at her wife.

“It’s not fair!” Marta repeated. Dagmara put her hand against Marta’s lips; palm forward to shush her.

“Maybe so, but we still have time, dear one. Let us do what we can to capture every precious moment we have instead of worrying about the moments we might not have. I love you….now… today…and forever!” Marta nodded in weak agreement until Dagmara added,

“I have not given up, and neither will you, okay?” She reached around Marta’s neck and pulled her into a warm, hopeful kiss before pulling her down into herself in invitation.

Czy słyszysz jak tam daleko muzyka gra?
Zatańcz ze mną, jeszcze raz**

Several years later…

Marta stood on a soft, rolling hill that overlooked a meadow-like area surrounded by tall oaks and strewn almost with plaques and headstones marked by winding cinder paths. A smallish girl stood next to her, holding her hand. The girl was about thirteen or so and favored Marta in coloring but was much more like her mother in size and temperament.

“Tell me again, Mama? I love it when you tell me about her, okay?” She glanced down at a bronze marker. Simple but elegant, Dagmara had insisted with a laugh. It was bordered by a raised frame of sorts with embossed roses and lilies.

“She did love to dance, right Mama? And she was loved.”

“Everyone she met loved her. She was so positive, Denuta, just like you. You have her eyes, you know?”

“Yes, Mama. I remember her eyes. And her smile.”

“Yes moja córka….and her smile.”

“Thank you, Mama. Thank you for loving my mother and thank you for loving me…”

Denuta grabbed Marta’s hand and pulled her close for a kiss on the lips. She was still a little girl in so many ways; innocent and hopeful, and strong; just like both of her mothers, which is as it should be. Marta pulled her daughter into a hug and kissed her on both cheeks in blessing. She grabbed the girl’s hand and they walked slowly down the hill.

Zatańcz ze mną jeszcze raz
Chcę chłonąć każdy oddech twój
Co z nami będzie? - uwierz mi
Tak jak ja nie kochał nikt***

Next: Michaela's Joy

*Dance with me one more time
Wrap up my face with your face
What will happen with us? - dawn out the window
We could have been so good

***Dance with me one more time
I want to inhale every breath you take
What will happen with us? - believe me
No one has ever loved like I do

Ostatni (The Last)
Words and music by
the performer
Edyta Bartosiewicz
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TPwB10gs8H8