All Alone - Cover

All Alone

Copyright© 2014 by Barneyr

Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End?

I'm alone, all alone in a lonely world where I find myself trapped. It's incredible. There are almost 8,000 people around me on this cruise ship. Yet somehow, I still feel alone. The how and why I'm here alone is a very sad tale. My name is John Henry Wilson, and I'm 41 years old. I'm 5 feet-11 inches tall, and I tip the scales at 188 pounds. On my head is sandy brown hair, blue eyes, and yes, I have a slight midriff bulge. I am the manager of CADD (Computer Aided Design and Drafting) services, for CRS Manufacturing, in Taylor Texas. It was only three weeks ago, that Karen Elizabeth Wilson, the most wonderful woman in the world, and I were happily married.

At that point, my whole world ended. My loving wife died of cancer. Her death came upon us, as sudden as the doctor spoke the diagnosis. A month before her death, Karen had gone in for her yearly checkup. Before she went in, she had no idea that the several cancers had ravaged her body. The tests blood tests showed that she had breast cancer, colon cancer, and ovarian cancer. When she went to the doctor to learn of the test results, by that time it was all over, but the crying.

We had three lovely children, and after her passing, they ganged up on me. They wanted me to take the cruise that Karen had planned before her demise. It was almost a year ago, that she had started planning for this cruise. The reason for the cruise was to celebrate our twentieth anniversary. Tomorrow is our twentieth anniversary.


We met when I attended Larry's high school graduation. Larry Ross and I grew up together, as next-door neighbors. He was my best friend. Larry's family moved to the house next to ours when Larry was four, and I was a worldly six. I'd just finished first grade, and Larry would be starting kindergarten in the fall. Larry and I became more like brothers, as we grew up. Since I was bigger than he was, I became his protector. Larry was a lot smarter than I was and, during high school, he helped me with some of my homework. Larry it turned out was a genius. But, for some unknown reason, he never flaunted his smarts to me. Although he was a genius, he wanted the same things all of us wanted. He wanted the love of a good woman, and the respect of our peers. To achieve that, Larry went through school just like the rest of our friends.

We had many great times double dating in school. Then I graduated, which left Larry alone, for his final two years in school. But with all the friends we had made, although I was gone, he still felt protected.

I guess I should explain a couple of things about Larry. Larry was a proportional dwarf, a little person. When Larry turned six, he just stopped growing. He was just four foot-one and one-quarter inches tall, and weighed fifty-five pounds. But his heart and brain were bigger than most people twice his size. Not physically, but in a good way. He had an endearing quality that just about made you love him. Sure, some bullies in school who still wanted to pick on him. But I made it known that I would not tolerate anyone picking on my 'brother'. I was bigger and meaner that most of the others in school, as I got my last growth spurt in eighth grade. Well except for the last five years, when my midsection took on a life of its own, and decided that it wanted to become bigger.

At the graduation ceremony, it was easy to see where Larry was sitting. All I had to do was look for the possible absence of someone in a seat. We sat behind the graduates. My parents were on one side of me. Sitting next to them was Phyllis. She was Larry's 16-year-old normal-sized sister. Next to her were Larry's parents Mary and John. My parents were Joseph and Margaret Wilson.

I soon learned that sitting on Larry's right was a beautiful girl, Karen Rose. On his left was Gary Rossman. When they stood up to receive their diplomas, it looked funny. First, you saw Karen who looked around five feet eight inches. Following her was Larry, at maybe four feet two inches, and then Gary at six feet two inches. When I graduated from high school, Gary took over, as Larry's protector and friend.

For all the smarts Larry had, he didn't try to become the very best. But, as the third highest grades in school, he achieved what he was after. He had great grades, enough for a scholarship, yet he didn't have to give any speeches. Why was this so important? Because he was never one to speak in public; he was too self-conscious of his height. But in other ways he was the biggest person I knew. His compassion and understanding was greater than anyone I could even think of.

After the ceremony, we got the chance to meet his many friends. But the one I noticed the most was Karen Rose. With their names so close, she found herself assigned seating near Larry all through high school. I never really paid attention to her, as my classes and Larry's were never the same. I paid attention today though. Once I actually met her face to face, I felt instantly smitten. Karen had reddish blond hair, blue-green eyes, and was a walking dream. We spoke about how Larry and I were more like brothers, and not just neighbors.

Karen said that she had heard nothing but praise and love from Larry when he mentioned my name. Since graduation, I had been away to the Texas State University in San Marcos. I was working toward a degree in mechanical engineering, with a minor in CADD. Karen and I hit it off very well from our first introduction. As we talked, I found out that Larry and Karen were both going to Texas State, as well in the fall. I felt delighted to say the least. My best friend and the woman I was in love with would now be joining me at college.

At Texas State, I became Larry's protector again and Karen's beau. By the time I graduated, Karen and I had announced our engagement. We would marry during that summer. Karen always wanted to have a June wedding. So we enjoyed a great wedding with Larry at my side. Next to him were my other two groomsmen. Gary was first, followed by my friend Robert Young, from school ... Karen had her best friend Shirley Cummings, as maid of honor. Christine Shorts and Cassondra Sterling were her bride's maids.

Karen's parents were Sylvia and Carl Rose. They were not very thrilled with us getting married so soon. They wanted us to wait until Karen graduated. We agreed, but as things happen quite often, fate decided to take a different path. Somehow, Karen turned up pregnant. We both were using protection to make sure there were no slip-ups. But one night I had run out of condoms, and since Karen was on the pill, I thought we were safe. Yeah, right, and I have some ocean front property in Kansas I can sell you too.

That pleasant accident was Chelsea. Since we found out about her being pregnant around the end of October, we figured that the birth would be around June 1. We were right, as June 2nd was Chelsea's birthday. Karen's mother doted on young Chelsea, and the following fall, Karen went back to school.

Shortly after I graduated from Texas State, I found a CADD job at CRS. CRS wanted people to start at the bottom and work their way up. This way, each person learned what and how the company provided its products and services. Two years later, James was born. This was shortly after Karen graduated with a degree in Human Resources. With her degree in hand, Karen applied for a job at CRS. They accepted her, and she started at CRS. After five years, she became the Assistant Manager of CRS HR. This was even after the birth of my little angel, Angela.

I was no slouch in the advancement department. I had moved up to CADD Services Supervisor. Our life was idyllic. We were so in love with each other and our precious children. Then came the fateful day when Karen called me to come pick her up at her doctor's office. Her blood tests came back that day. It was April 28th, the day my world ended. We drove home in silence, neither wishing to express our grief and sorrow. Two days later we told our children: Chelsea, at nineteen, was in her sophomore year at Texas State, and the leader of our trio. James at seventeen was just finishing high school. Then there was Angela, at fourteen going on thirty. I'm sure that anyone who has teenagers knows what I mean.

Of the three, James was most upset. He had always been his mother's favorite just as Angela was mine. I'm not saying that we had spoiled them, or anything, as we loved each of our children the same. Chelsea took control, and made us all a meal, although most of us just picked at the food on our plates. It was not a normal happy evening at the Wilson homestead that night.

They had scheduled more tests scheduled and then the biopsies. Finally, we knew the truth. Karen was going to die, and it would be very soon. How she coped with the impending doom of dying I'll never know, I just knew that each day she woke with a smile on her face, and love in her heart. I had to keep working to cope with the anger against God and the world that had caused this tragedy to strike our family. Each night I pleaded with God to take me and leave Karen alone. It reminded me of the song, "Don't Take the Girl," sung by Tim McGraw. I would give everything I had, even my own life, if could save my love. To no avail, I couldn't change fate; I had to keep going on for our children's sake, not mine.

Larry and his wife Shelly were right there trying to help, as much as they could. They were a godsend to my family. The day that Karen slipped away from me, Larry took me in his stubby arms. He held me, as I cried rivers of tears, for the loss of my one true love. Larry had Shelly find a bottle of my medicine (Tullamore Dew) from the cupboard. We sat in my den, and we drank until I fell asleep. Well, in fact, I consumed most of the liquor, and Larry talked the most. I listened some and maybe thought some. But that was only until my mind imploded, and I went off to the land of nod due to a drunken stupor.

For the next week, I ran on autopilot. I was there physically, but walked around in a mental haze. Larry made all the funeral arrangements. Gary got the church lined up, and Shelly took care of the kids. Without all of my close friends, I don't know how I could have coped with the loss of Karen.

Before we knew of her problems, Karen and I had planned to take a cruise around the western Caribbean. Our plan was to visit Jamaica, The Caymans, and Cozumel, Mexico. Then we would head back to Galveston. The date for the trip was only three weeks after Karen passed away.

Larry and Shelly, and my children, finally convinced me to go on this cruise. They all said I needed the time alone to grieve and come back to the land of the living. They said I'd come back refreshed and ready to tackle the rest of my life. That life though, would be without my beloved Karen. I just knew they were wrong, but I went anyway. The cruise line would reimburse me for Karen's cost, but to me I really didn't care.

So on the Saturday morning before that cruise was supposed to leave I drove to Galveston. I had made a reservation to stay at a local motel. The following morning, I left my car at the motel, and took a cab to the docks. I unloaded my single suitcase on wheels, and headed to the terminal, so I could check in. I felt and looked more like a zombie, as I waited in the check-in lines. Once on the ship, I went to the bar where I immediately started to drink. My plan was to drink the entire damn cruise. I really didn't care about anything else. When the bartender came over, I asked for my normal Tullamore Dew, and was extremely surprised that they had it.

Before I left for the trip, I made a pact with myself. I would try very hard to make the best of this trip. It was very important for me to make sure that I had my shit together, for my children's sake, if for no other reason. Chelsea, I felt, would be fine. But my two other children, James and Angela, would need me alive and well, so I could be there for them. I'd need all my wits about me to cope with Angela and her growing independence. I had to straighten out my emotions and learn to go on with my life.

At first, I thought, about jumping overboard to join my lovely Karen. But I immediately had second thoughts about that idea. I thought that if I selected the second option, two things could happen. First, I might join her, but I would leave our children alone, and they would feel like I do now. Second, I would end up in Hell. But it would make no difference, because I'd be without our precious children and my beloved Karen.

That first night, as I was lying in my bed, I felt the swaying of the ship in the waves gently rocking myself to sleep. Suddenly, I heard a noise. I heard a tapping on the window. It turned out that one of the two chairs on the balcony was too close to the window. But to me, I thought that the gentle rocking of the ship was tapping out a message to me from my beloved Karen. I took the message to mean that she understood my deep sorrow and grief. I also felt though, that the message was telling me more. It was telling me that I had real responsibilities at home. I had to accept those responsibilities, or our children would become devastated.

During the two days at sea, while we headed for Jamaica, I moped around the ship. They served in a food area called the Marketplace on the Lido Deck. I made sure that I ate my breakfast alone, and then skipped lunch. Suppertime was a lonely affair. They assigned me to a table for two in the nearest restaurant. As I sat there, I ordered 'Dew' on the rocks. I drank that with my supper. After supper, I went to the casino and of course, the bar. While I was there, I tried to drown my sorrows in booze. I kept on thinking about what I had to do next. What was the secret? How could I survive the devastating tragedy that had occurred in my life? Wait, that happened in our lives. Me, and my children are now an "us." It was now 'US' against the cruel world out there that took my, I mean our Karen from us. I'd have to start thinking about us now, not just me. What could we do to cope? What could we do to survive? I had to stop thinking about me and start thinking about us.

The second day and night passed much like the first. I finally managed to fall asleep near dawn. I slept until a knock on the door announced the cabin steward. Leo was his name, and he was from Indonesia. He was very friendly, and asked about Miss Karen.

I broke down and cried, and explained that I had lost her to cancer. He sympathized with me, and promised not to mention her name again. Leo helped, as much as he could. He told me where to eat, where to go for privacy, and what facilities were available to me here on the ship. He told me about their medical center where I might ask for some sleeping pills to help me sleep. They also had a priest on board who was available to talk with me.

Leo said that being busy would help me to cope with my loss. He is so far away from his family that it was as if he had lost his family too. Working, as much as he does, he finds it hard to write, or even talk to his family. I realized that I might not be in such a bad situation after all.

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