EPILOGUE 2068 Lucerne, Switzerland

Elena paused for a moment as she walked unsteadily down the hall with U.T. and neared Urs’ room. U.T. stopped and looked at her, his almond, slanted eyes so familiar that for a moment she felt her traitorous heart lurch. He was so like his grandfather.

“Oma?” His soft voice drew her back from the pleasant memories threatening to engulf her and she smiled at him, trying to ally his concern.

“Just a twinge, dearest,” she murmured and her grandson watched as she took a tiny white pill from her pocket and slipped it under her tongue.

They waited a few minutes while the nitroglycerine took effect, Urs Toni, U.T. everyone called him, held her against his chest and she leaned on to him, this strong young man, not yet 30 but so like his grandfather when she had first met Urs… silky dark, curly hair, worn long, the chiseled features and dimpled smile, long fingered large hands and a kind heart so in sync with hers that she seldom had to explain anything.

She drew back and caressed his cheek with a tanned hand, the knuckles a little swollen today from arthritis. Why was it that getting old meant that you had to suffer not only the indignities of sagging breasts and flaccid muscles but multiple illnesses as well? It didn’t seem fair.

“He will be waiting. You know how he likes everything to be on time.”

U.T. chuckled and offered his arm, escorting her to the hospital room door and tapping gently before they entered.

Urs was reclining in one of the roomy chairs by the window, his head of thick stark-white hair, still worn long and curly though not the fashion, resting against the high back but he sat up and smiled at them when they came in, holding Elena’s eyes with the same look that he had used to keep her enchanted for more than 61 years.

“You are late,” he said, trying to look stern but the smile wouldn’t leave his face and she kissed him on the dimples, laughing when he managed to raise a hand and hold her head while he captured her mouth.

“U.T. drives like an old lady on Valium when I’m in the car,” she said, relying on an old joke between them to keep the mood light.

Urs shared a grin with his grandson.

“Ready to go home, Opa?” the young man asked though he knew that Urs was chafing to get going…. And sadly knew that they had not much time.

The illness was evident today, a hint of lingering pain in the drug fuzzed eyes, the once strong hands trembling slightly. For a moment U.T. wondered how they would ever go on without this beloved man, this person who had been the cornerstone of so many lives for so long. He blinked back his tears and brought the hospital wheelchair over as Urs and Elena watched, both smiling at the way he was coping.

U.T. drew back the blanket covering Urs thin legs and lifted his Opa easily into the wheelchair, tucking the blanket around him again.

Elena leaned over her husband of so many wonderful years and undid the buttons on the long sleeves of his shirt. He had never liked to have them done up, even in the early concert days when wearing his Armani suits for the first time he more often than not left the buttons undone.

“The nurse was being so kind and gentle…I didn’t have the heart to complain,” he said with a little smile.

“I know, Rock God. You never like to hurt anyone. That’s just one of the reasons we all love you so much.”

U.T. helped him put on his sweater and the heavy, lined leather jacket and gloves, Elena handed him his dark glasses and tucked his hair back behind his ears and he was ready for one last time to face his public.

He took her hand and kissed the fingertips, looking at her over the top of the glasses and whispered “Don’t leave me, Liebe,” to which she smiled and said “Silly man!!”

She knew only too well how shy he had become in the past few years, not wanting to disappoint the many fans and feeling obligated but nervous about the adulation. She took his left hand in hers to walk beside the chair as U.T. started them down the hall, judging their pace to the gait he knew she was capable of.

They had to run the gauntlet of patients and nursing staff, so many, coming into the hallways and in the reception area on the main floor, wanting one last look at this man they all loved, wanting him to know how much his music had meant to them over the years, quietly wishing him a smooth, painless journey, many weeping quietly as he raised his shades and flashed them ‘the Look’ and a Blinky Wink, one last time.

U.T. transferred Urs to his own motorized chair and he carefully zipped up the ramp into the specially designed van, waved one last time at the crowd of uniforms and they were gone, driving carefully over the snow packed streets of Lucerne toward their home by the lake.

From his vantage point in the center of the van, Urs watched Elena as she talked softly with U. T., turning often to include him in the conversation.

So many years and yet she still filled his heart with joy, the sight of her, that lovely curly hair still long and lustrous though now completely white, the years of their lives together plain on her dear face but only adding to her beauty. He loved to listen to her laugh, her bright green eyes, the first thing he had ever mentioned about her, long ago in front of the flats… they still mesmerized him the way they flashed with joy, teased him without any words, filled with tears when she was sad, and grew cold when she was angered, though that was seldom, in fact he could not remember the last time.

He knew she was ill, though they hadn’t spoken of it, hadn’t needed to since they knew each other so well, so by tacit agreement they avoided the subject. Lately they had spoken of other things, making sure with Swiss logic and efficiency that everything was in order, that everyone who should be seen and thanked, had been, and they had indulged in memories, so many memories that had made their lives full beyond any dreams they had ever envisioned so long ago.

The doctor had been reluctant at first to let him go home, arguing that they could keep him more comfortable at the hospital for his last few days, but they had persevered and now Urs was getting his wish…. He was going home, one last time, to die peacefully in the arms of his wife. He looked back at her again just as she turned to smile at him and knew without any doubt that their promise for over 61 years would again hold fast…. She would follow, and soon….. as they had promised each other on the cigarette boat that afternoon so long ago, there would be no more good byes between them and though often parted in the early years, it was with a cheery “Back soon’ or ‘See you Later’ and the separations had only made the returns that much more passionate…he grinned as he thought that at least three of their children had been conceived because of reunions.

His thoughts drifted to Il Divo…. He was the last, the only member of that blending of voices that stilled survived. Carlos, dear Carlos with his booming voice and wiggly eyebrows, succumbing quickly to a virus 5 years past, gone before they could reach him to say Adios…. And Sebastien, his breathing stopping as he sat at the piano, composing yet another brilliant piece of music, scarcely a month after they had lost David, back stage after attending yet another production of the opera they had all written together, again a peaceful ending as he merely sat on the sofa in the star’s dressing room and was gone.

He smiled as he thought of them, of the music they had wrapped the world in, an album a year for over 30 years, as well as numerous solo albums often written or produced by one of the others, countless concerts, on tour and benefits and the quiet good works they had done to improve this planet. Beautiful orphanages in impoverished countries where the children were cuddled and loved as well as fed and kept clean, adoption agencies with more caring, feeling workers with lighter case loads.

He thought of Jurado, how it had changed because of the adventure they had and how well they had done at keeping the calm, quiet of the place though improving the lot of those living there. The Penny Ruiz School of Herbology and Natural Medicine had thrived, the townspeople were gently brought into the modern world, the whole area declared protected so no giant hotels could turn it into a tourist destination.

And there were other things they had used their wealth and celebrity to improve: ecological efforts, famine relief, AMTM.

And of course the children, the many natural children of the Divos plus those they had welcomed by adoption into their families…. Every year for the Posada at the Casa the event had grown, now needing two days to cope with the amount of guests.

All the children had flourished in their new homes, grown and married, had gradually taken on the mantles passed to them by their elders, becoming doctors and financiers, artists, ranchers, homemakers, engineers, teachers and in each generation at least one, often more, excelling in the music world in one form or the other. He smiled as he thought that he must ask Elena how many grand children they had now… he had lost count.

And of course there were so many others, long gone ahead of them and dearly missed: Maddie, Jan, Gerry, Cena and Neto, Armando and Amelia, Chuy and Rosa who had achieved their dream of all 9 children attending and doing well in University… the Millers and his parents, Seb’s Maman. The elder Marins …. their own Analuisa in that terrible skiing accident when she was only 17… and Simon, dear Simon that the world thought of as Mr. Nasty but the Divos and families knew was a sweet, dear man with a brusque business face….. so many loved ones….

They turned in at the gate to the sprawling house, a small spiral of white smoke rising above the snow covered roof as the automatic heating system coped with the extreme cold. Such a wonderful life they had enjoyed, here and in Mexico, other places as well but those two places were especially dear to them.

Eight children had grown to maturity in this place, the six they had joked about, but happily produced, plus two adopted and treated just the same, thriving in the boundless love and giving back ten fold. The laughter that echoed through the building and over the fields and groves of trees had been the inspiration for the last music he had created, something that U.T. would be performing in Salzburg in the spring.

U.T had arranged for the drive to be plowed, including the short curve that led to the large boat house and the suite built above it.

They pulled up at the ramp to the suite, the place that Urs and Elena had usually stayed the past 10 years and U.T. helped them up the ramp, nearly having to carry Elena but she took another of her little white ‘magic’ pills and followed behind the wheel chair as Urs drove to the top.

Inside it was cool, not cold since the heating had been automatic to keep the piano and the LaCote from harm. U.T. turned up the thermostat and helped with coats, checked the frig, though he didn’t expect them to do more than nibble on the Chocolate Bombe his wife had made.

Urs had opted for the long over-stuffed sofa rather than the bed and was now stretched out, looking peaceful and content, his mouth and eyes smiling, clearly happy to be where he was and accepting of what was soon to come.

Elena had gone to the far side of the room, the music room, they called it and when Urs spoke to U.T. she started back, paused for a moment to let a spasm of pain pass then came on.

“Urs Toni…” his Opa was the only one who ever called him that, “do you have a Euro?”

U.T. dug in his pocket and handed over a shiny coin, curious but silent.

Elena reached him and handed him a guitar case…. The LaCote.

“Wrap the world in Love and Music, U.T., in true Il Divo fashion.”

The gesture was nearly his undoing. He thanked them, hugging and kissing them both and upheld the family tradition of farewell.

“See you later. I love you.”

Without more delay U.T. groped his way to the door and drove away from the boathouse, pausing just outside the gate at the end of the driveway to let his tears finish and try to calm himself before driving back to his family in Lucerne.

Urs and Elena didn’t talk much after he left. After all these years they had both said all that was necessary.

She joined him on the sofa, spooned, both resting under a light throw, watching the interplay of the bright sun on the frozen expanse of lake in front of them. Gradually their medications wore off and while she still could Elena went to the kitchen and sliced off one small piece of the Chocolate Bombe, brought it back on a plate with one fork and they shared it.

His breathing was deteriorating as his pain increased. She put the half finished cake on the small table at the end of the sofa and lay beside him again, facing him, their arms about each other, his head resting on her breasts.

“It has been a good life, Ja, Liebeling?” she heard him murmur and choked back a sob.

“Perfect, my Love. We have been blessed.”

He was silent for a few ragged breaths then raised his head to gaze in her eyes.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered.

“I will follow close behind you. Wait for me.”

He reached up to kiss her, tasting of chocolate and that special taste that was Urs, caressing her lips with his tongue one last time, then lay his head on her breasts once more.

“I never get tired of kissing you,” he murmured and she felt his face crinkle in a smile as he exhaled his last breath.

He was gone, she knew it, felt the emptiness of his mortal body as it rapidly began to cool, but waited, expecting another breath, not wanting to accept what she knew to be true.

At last she let the knowledge enter her, felt the sting of tears at the loss and the ominous tightening around her heart. The pain was bad this time, a tight band that squeezed the life from her but she easily resisted the urge to take another pill, let it swamp over her as she lay holding the shell of her departed love against her straining body.

It passed and she felt an aura of peace, of lightness. Faintly at first, then with more of the old power she heard his voice, heard the song he had written for her though the world had never been told the significance…. ‘No Mas Despedidas’…. No More Goodbyes. She turned to follow the sound of his voice and heard the blending of four voices becoming one…. Il Divo was together once more and she laughed with joy as she raced along the bright path of music to the arms he held open wide to welcome her.

**
The mortal shell returns to dust,
yet
Love Lives On

******************************************************