Epilogue

Neil was out on a house call and had been gone for days. I was glad the leaves had changed color and began to fall; it was a perfect setting for Fairlight and I to resume our walks and organize activities with the women. But I couldn't help but worry whenever Neil didn't come home when I expected him. I looked through the wedding album. Despite my desire not to spend very much effort on extra expenses for the wedding, my mother had insisted that we at least have an actual set of photographs to remember our wedding.

As if I would have trouble remembering it! I don't think I'll ever forget that giddy and joyful moment that was a wonderful reflief from the pain of grieving for my father just as much as a release of the beginning of the rest of my life.

This Spring was the darkest hour in my life. I felt detached from the newness of life and somewhat oblivios to the signs around me that nature beginning again; instead, I was dying inside, and experiencing many small deaths of my hopes and dreams of what life would be like. I would no longer be able to picture my father as a part of my future. He would not walk me down the aisle and give me away. But in this time, I also experienced the miracle of God's provision. The people of Cutter Gap were faithful, patient, and kind to me in my darkness. Their willingness to comfort me as if they also experienced death for the first time humbled me as I began to notice their daily struggle with death because of constant hardship. I had experienced their suffering of hunger and poverty, but I hadn't dared admit the consequences they would inevitably suffer as well. While battles with my mother had been common in the last few years, I felt even more anguish over my decision to stay in Cutter Gap while she left for home, alone and a widow. Fortunately, Alice knew my deep connection to these people and fought for me when all the fight had left me. Knowing that being here was essential to my process of grief and healing, Alice was so determined to show Mother all the wonders of these mountain people she all but persuaded my mother to stay. Neil and I continued our relationship, delving deeper into the details and delicacies of courtship that would soon prepare us for marriage. There were times when I was nervous around him, and did not want to show my vulnerability and constant weeping. But his new character in Christ showed through and he determined to understand my needs and learned how to console me. Whenever we began to fight over nonsenical things, we realized that it was time to spend a little time apart.

My greatest moment of relief from grief had been a moment of revelation. It was the beginning of summer, and the sun seemed to shine it's brightest hue that beckoned to me. My wandering feet ended up at the river's edge down from Neil's cabin. Seeing Neil fishing, I chose to stand out of his eyesight and watch. It made me remember the day Neil had given me a lesson in fishing. I had ended up in the same spot, running from a fight I had with David. With the simple act of teaching me how to fish, Neil's presence calmed me, and I was lulled to a peaceful state of mind by the sound of his voice. This time, it was God's voice that I heard. I watched as the fish fought against the current on to their destination. There, they would lay their eggs and finally die from exhaustion. But they did not die before they had the opportunity to give life and let the cycle began again for their children. Death was not purposeless. My father had given me life, and more importantly, gave life to my dreams. In that way, he would always be remembered, and he would be with me as I realized me dreams. And Neil was now quickly becoming the anchor of those dreams. It was time to set the date for the wedding. My father would not want me to stop my life because of him. He would want me to live! So I would.

The journey forward to my wedding gave me more and more energy with each new step. In order to snuff out my mother's control of the planning the decorative and unnecessary details of the wedding, we decided August would give us ample enough time to prepare. The simplicity of a mountain wedding was alluring, and so since I named Fairlight my maid of honor, she took it upon herself to organize the women in planning most of the essentials. In the Spring, David had decided that he did not fit in Cutter Gap, and had decided to go west with Ida. Ida had been secretly writing letters of courtship with a man who owned orange orchards in California during my entire courtship with Neil. Who would've guessed? As a result, we had a new pastor for our congregation fresh out of seminary, and his wife took on Ida's role as the cook. He agreed quickly to officiate the ceremony, would be his first. He was kind and had a generous nature, and was adaptable to the ways of the mountain people. I had a hint of insight that he would later be useful in giving people opportunities to learn how to better take care of their familes and draw income from their skills and resources. I was excited for his involvement in our community and began my mission of persuading him to my causes. Between wedding planning and forming relationships with the new mission staff, I started to come alive again without noticing that the edge of grief had gone.

I heard Neil's voice and realized that I had fallen asleep in the rocking chair with the wedding album on my lap, "Hello lass. Dreaming of our wedding night again?" His face took on an impish appearance and I saw that as a sign I should go along with his joke. Despite my determination not to blush, I shot back, "No Dr. MacNeil, I'm just cooking the burnt chicken dinner you like so much!" He let out a guffaw of laughter and surprised me by swiftly picking me up so that he was holding me horizontally against his chest. My mouth instinctively reached up to meet his in a sweet and lingering kiss.

"Alice has been missing you lately. Don't ignore her just because you have a lot to do keeping me in line." I felt him smile against me and his mood was very bright for spending a week in the medical trenches. This was too good a moment to pass up. We would find time to talk about our time apart later. "I'm just a little anxious that I don't know how to tell her that we've decided to start trying for a baby," I felt a remnant of my old shyness make me blush again. My parents had raised me in a world where feminity was constricted to a certain role as well as scripted to more formal and 'appropriate' things to say. I was glad for a home where my children would call me mommy or mama; Neil and I would build a more intimate and openly expressive family.

Neil kissed me sweetly again, "Well, let's get started then." I can't believe he had the strength to carry me upstairs, but he did. "I love you lass."

"I love you too." Once we landed on our bed, we envoked the power of our wedding vows.