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Six Months Later
I watched proudly as Bridget scattered the rainbow-colored petals down the white aisle runner. Woodridge Community Church was positively bursting with gerbera daisies. I had to agree with my mother’s assessment all those years ago that they were indeed the happiest flowers. When we planned this day, we wanted that happiness to be felt by all who joined us. Looking around at the smiling faces of all the people I loved, I marveled once again at the winding road that had led me to this moment.
Taking a deep breath, I clasped Mom’s trembling hand in mine. The look we exchanged spoke volumes as we took the first step and started down the aisle together. We were both dressed in lovely ivory wedding gowns, a luxury we hadn’t forgone when planning this double wedding. Mom didn’t want to put a lot of money into a dress, but I insisted. This was her wedding, and she deserved to walk down the aisle to my father in a dress she loved.
I had surprised her with a beautiful, vintage, ivory lace sheath dress that was my gift to her. The stunning dress hugged her body, which was finally beginning to fill out now that her chemotherapy treatments were over and she’d been declared cancer free. That was the best and most important gift of all. Her lovely auburn hair was beginning to cover her head once again, although it was still short. She carried a bouquet of gerbera daisies, and tucked inside the bouquet was the very first letter my father ever wrote to her.
I’d also chosen a dress I loved. It was made of flowing ivory chiffon, and its empire waist was specifically designed to disguise my five-month baby bump. Thankfully, I was past the morning sickness, and my doctor assured me that this pregnancy was moving along exactly as it should be. I’d been so worried that I would never conceive again, but that hadn’t been a problem at all. Every day I was learning that life was all about perfect timing.
Sam and I had been quietly married in a ceremony at City Hall six months ago, just a week after he proposed at the marina. After being apart for ten years, neither of us wanted to wait a moment longer. Having a double wedding meant so much to Mom that we agreed to go along with it, even if it was just a formality. I loved the symbolic significance of the ceremony. It was the perfect conclusion to the second-chance love stories we both shared.
Mom and I reached the end of the aisle, and I leaned over and kissed her cheek, brushing away the tears that glistened there, before placing her hand into my father’s. Once their hands were joined, I brought them both to my lips and planted a kiss there as well. These two people had given me life, and although it hadn’t always been an easy one, for better or for worse they were mine. I turned and put both of my hands into Sam’s, knowing I’d already placed my future there.
The minister cleared his throat and began, “First Corinthians chapter thirteen tells us, Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” I listened to the words I’d specifically chosen for the minister to speak. I let them sink in as I thought about the journey I’d been on this past year.
Sam and I were finally living the life we’d always planned, even though it wasn’t exactly the way we’d envisioned it. In many ways, it was so much better than anything our teenage selves could have concocted. It wasn’t the starry-eyed, reckless kind of love we used to share. Instead, it was mature, tried, true, and something neither of us would ever take for granted. It was exactly the kind of love that we needed.
I’d legally adopted Bridget, who was once and for all my daughter in every sense of the word. I thanked Annie each and every day for giving her to me. She was a precious gift, and I was blessed to be her mother. She filled my heart with happiness, and I had become the mother she’d always needed. Soon, Sam and I would welcome another child into our family.
Sometimes, I still fell into my old habits. The familiar anxiety was hard to bury, and I often found myself waiting for disaster to strike, certain that this was all too good to be true. I would think that I must be dreaming, and I would be terrified that I’d awaken to find none of this was real. Day by day, though, I believed it a little bit more. This was my reality, and I planned to hold on to it for dear life.
Sam looked at me and smiled knowingly as my eyes filled with tears. I’d told him before the ceremony that I wasn’t going to cry, and he laughed as if I’d just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. He was right; he knew I couldn’t make it through this momentous day without tears. He knew me better than anyone. I smiled at Kelsey, who was sitting in the front row with her husband and children, and she winked slyly at me. She’d known that this was my future long before I had.
I glanced at Mom and Dad, and my heart nearly burst with love for the two of them as they gazed into one another’s eyes. After a lifetime of separation, they had found their way back to each other, proving that it was never too late for a happy ending.
Mom caught me looking her way and our eyes locked. We’d certainly walked along a rocky path to find our way to each other, but we were so close now that I couldn’t imagine my life without her. It was strange to think that if she hadn’t gotten sick, none of this would have happened. Now she was in remission, and our future was bright. Life certainly had a way of giving us exactly what we needed when we least expected it.
Although my return to Woodridge began as a desperate attempt to escape my life, it turned out to be a gift I could never have imagined. In the process, I gained a mother and a father, as well as a husband and a daughter. But most importantly, I found myself, and I knew I would never lose me again.
The minister’s words echoed in my head: “Now these three remain: faith, hope, and love.” I’d been haunted throughout my life with many things I’d never wanted—fear, anxiety, depression, loneliness, and abandonment. A year ago, I thought they would remain with me forever. Bit by bit, they were replaced with other things, like happiness, acceptance, and peace. The pain of the past was finally gone. Love was all that remained.
THE END
