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I was so happy there, feeling like a princess from one of my storybooks in my flowing white satin. I had twinkles in my hair from my pretty slides, and my makeup was a natural sheen that lit up my eyes.
I handed my bouquet over to Mum and took both of Logan’s hands in mine, glad he had opted for no top hat so the beautiful patterns on his scalp were in the light.
Then we did it.
We said the words.
We made the vows.
Sure, every moment counts. Every second means the world. But that moment, when he slid that golden band on my finger, was the happiest moment of my life.
I was the luckiest woman alive to be able to call myself Mrs Logan Hall.55Logan“Almost there, Mrs Hall,” I said, and she laughed at my side.
“I’m sure I don’t remember it being this much of a trek last time.”
I laughed along with her. “We’re not taking the wheelchair route this time, that’s why.”
The path climbed, higher and higher, and my lungs were hot with my breaths, Mum’s urn gripped tight under my arm and Chloe’s arm wrapped tight around my other.
The horizon was glorious, plains upon plains of green, and in a few minutes more we were right there at the top, with the wind zipping by us, a perfect bluster for our task.
Glorious. It was absolutely fucking glorious.
I was the luckiest man alive.
It was the final day of our honeymoon – a beautiful trip around Wales. It had been Chloe’s idea to take Mum with us, sharing all of our beautiful moments together, and now we were calling back in on the Worcestershire ridge on the way home, both of us sure as steel this was where Mum would want to be.
“I wish she was here,” Chloe said, and pressed even closer to my side. “She’d have loved it up here today.”
“She’d have loved it up here any day,” I replied. “She loved every single minute she was breathing.”
I wasted no time in taking hold of the urn and twisting the lid off. Mum was nothing but a cluster of white dust inside that case, but for once in my life the physical remnants symbolised so much more.
“Here you go, Mum,” I said. “Enjoy the moment.”
Then I scattered the first of her ashes.
The breeze caught her and carried her away, handful after handful going back to the earth. Chloe helped me, both of us together, setting Mum free from her wooden case, and it was another of those moments amongst moments that steal your heart and take your breath away.
We scattered and we smiled, grateful for the woman who’d been such an amazing soul, and enjoying the sun lighting up her dust as it swirled away in the breeze.
“I love you, Mr Hall,” Chloe said, and I kissed her head, breathing in her beautiful mousy hair, glistening with shimmers of gold.
“I love you too, Mrs Hall.”
It was a wonderful feeling, being a man loving a woman who’d taught me to love so much.
So many people, and so many places. So many shared memories and hopes and dreams.
There were so many times I’d heard her thank the universe, and I’d never felt the call to thank it myself, but right there, on the heights of the Malvern Hills, I broke my own tradition just once.
“Thank you, universe,” I said. “For giving me so much time to love.”
“I’m right with you on that,” Chloe added.
I’d been lucky with the follow up consultations. My CLL was there, but it wasn’t advanced as the doctors originally thought. My lymph nodes were struggling and spleen cancer was forming, but it was ok.
For the time being, it was ok.
The days I expected ahead of me, with an insulin bottle by the bedside, were turning into months, and they could be turning into years. Who knew?
But Jesus Christ, I was going to enjoy all of them. Every single moment of every single day.
“Ready to roll?” Chloe asked, and I screwed the lid back on the empty urn, taking one last breath at the beacon before I looked down into her eyes.
“Sure am, jitterbug. Let’s get home.”
“Super cool,” she laughed, and I laughed back with a smirk.
“Super cool, indeed,” I said.
It was dark when we pulled back up on the driveway that night. There was a pang of emotion in my chest when we stepped in through the doorway.
Happiness.
Sadness.
A strange combination of the two.
Chloe knew exactly where we were headed, and took the stairs right up alongside me.
Mum’s door was already open, the trinkets on her shelves still exactly as she left them.
And her bucket list still pinned up on her wall.
Meet an elephant. Tick.
Climb a mountain. Tick.
Ride the back of a motorcycle around a sharp corner. Tick.
Put my toes in the sea. Tick.
Get a daughter-in-law.
Chloe handed me a pen, and her rings caught the perfect sparkle in the lamplight.
