epilogue.
After almost a year, things had settled pretty evenly for our family, and the world was, slowly but surely, rebuilding. It is a relief to wake up every morning and be able to breath, to step outside without having to arm myself. Despite everything, things felt… right. Nabu and Arnold got married, and their little boy, Aari, is already walking. Church and Poptarts are more in love than ever, as are Connor and I. Gotswana has found a lovely woman and plans to marry her soon. Mafala is the same as ever, constantly cracking jokes and making fun for us all. Schrader and Zelder write and call often. But my favourite part of this all, the thing that makes my heart swell and eyes water, is everything that Connor has done. He started a children's theatre company. He teaches them singing techniques and tap dancing. The most rewarding feeling ever is knowing that you helped someone's dreams come true, and there's nothing like seeing the smile on his face when he comes home every day. Everything inside of these walls feels right.
It was exactly a year from the incident, in fact, when Connor and I celebrated our first anniversary. For my present, he gave me a small velvet-wrapped box. I knew it wasn't a ring, because the little government that is left still had gay marriage as illegal, so I opened it with an open mind.
I was not disappointed. I little confused at first though, as I pulled out the mid-sized triangle of grey upholstery.
"What's this?" I chuckled. Connor just smiled with his response.
"It's a piece of fabric that I cut from the van a year ago," He informed me. That was almost too much for me to handle. I dropped the box and the fabric and lunged forward to kiss him. He was a little surprised to see me crying, but at the same time he knew what it meant to me.
We framed it, and put it above our mantle. Over time, things surrounded it, pictures, cards, flowers. But the grey fabric never left.
Every night, ever since we arrived in Salt Lake, I've said a little prayer every night. For Schrader and Zelder. For the Cunninghams. For Armin and Connie and Lilly and Faye. I pray for Connor, that he will one day love himself fully. Not halfway, but fully. And I pray for Michaels and Davis, for wherever they are. I hope they are somewhere beautiful.
I know I am.