It had been 24 years since Stella was born. Years that, to John and Abby, seemed like days. Here she was, dressed in white, ready to walk down the aisle. Her fiance' was a colleague at the University of Chicago Hospital, where Stella was employed as head of the nursing department in the Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit.
John ran his hands through his hair, which had thinned and grayed years before, pacing the hall nervously, waiting for Abby to finish helping Stella with her gown. A few moments later, the door clicked open and Abby appeared.
"She's ready," she said, smiling.
Then she appeared, in her flowing gown and long veil. "You look beautiful," John told her, trying his best to keep his emotions in check.
"Thanks, Daddy," Stella said, giving her father a hug.
Abby hugged and kissed her daughter. "I love you, sweetie," she whispered, tears in her eyes, before she left to take her seat inside the church.
"Are you ready?" John asked her.
Stella took a deep breath and nodded. "Yep," she said, grinning.
As they made their way to the door of the sanctuary, the music began to play and Stella's bridesmaids began to make their way down the aisle. Trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach, Stella linked her arm with John's and smiled. Squeezing her hand, he whispered, "You'll be fine."
As they made their way down the aisle, John caught Abby's eye. They beamed at one another, proud of their daughter's accomplishments and their own as a family. They'd been through a lot since their own wedding 30 years before; now with their own daughter's marriage, things seemed, in a way, to have come full circle.
5 YEARS LATER
The birth of Stella. The miscarriage. Lynne Gurtz. His mother's death. Stella's wedding. These memories, among others, flooded John's mind as he rested his hand on the coffin and sighed. He remembered their significance, but most of all he remembered Abby's role in all of them.
"Daddy?"
John was snapped out of his daydreams by his daughter. "How are you?" she asked. "You've been standing here for almost an hour, people are starting to get worried." Pausing, Stella asked, "What are you thinking about?"
Sighing, John stood there, motionless, staring at the casket that held the only woman he ever loved. "Just... memories," he said. "The good years your mom and I had together. The very good years."