Finally the day came. My Dad was my best man and we were in tuxes. Kara’s Mom was matron of honor, her two best friends from school and two of her friends from the ward were bridesmaids, and I had my best friend and three of the older boys from the ward as ushers. We had a little four year old as the flower girl, her bald head wrapped carefully in a wreath of flowers. Another small boy from the ward was ring bearer.
We had posted an open invitation at the nurses’ station, as well as a blanket invitation to the ward parents. The small hospital chapel was filled to overflowing.
Kara.
She was stunning. The simple ankle length white dress was set off by a pink sash, and small pink flowers adorned her veil. Most surprising, she had a wig on, long blond tresses flowing beneath.
Her doctor walked her down the aisle. Her father had moved across the country, lacking the moral courage to stay with a dying child and a grieving wife. I didn’t know it was possible to despise someone I had never met.
The service was simple and beautiful.
The Catholic priest, flanked by his bishop, a Methodist minister, a Jewish Rabbi, and a Muslim Iman, conducted the service. It seems the entire hospital volunteer clergy staff wanted to bear witness.
“Friends, family, welcome to this day.”
“When this young man came to me with his request, I was startled. Never in my career had I been faced with this situation. So I did what all men of faith do. I investigated, then prayed for guidance. I consulted, both my bishop, and my friends, all men of faith.”
“We talked, we prayed, and made our decision. God saw fit to put these children together, who are we to judge?”
“After talking to their parents, care givers, and friends, I realized that I had before two of the best examples of young people I ever had the pleasure to meet. So I talked to God again, and he led me here.”
“This is not a legal ceremony. It is a marriage that will be never be consummated. What it is is an expression of love between two young people who have everything but time. I have no doubt that if things were different in a few years either me or one of my contemporaries would be performing this same ceremony.”
“It is not a joining of bodies but a linking of souls. We are merely here to affirm their love for each other. They have written their own vows. Please join me in listening.”
Kara went first.
“Wiley, I think I loved you the first time I saw you, singing and playing your guitar for children most people had forgotten, trying to give us hope in an essentially hopeless world.”
“If things were different, we would have dated, gotten educations, gone to proms, lost our virginity to each other, married, made children, and lived our lives in love and happiness.”
“But, life is what it is. We don’t have time, so we take what we can get. I know I love you as much as a twelve year old girl can love anyone, and no matter how much time I have left, I intend to spend it loving you.”
She hadn’t told me what she was going to say, and it took me a moment to get my emotions under control.
“Kara, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The fact that you wanted to spend any time at all with me honors me.”
“I don’t deserve your love, but crave it, and am grateful beyond words you have given it to me.”
“I feel cheated. We would have been good together. I know I never told you, but you’re much smarter than I will ever be. I have a feeling in the future I’m going to wish I had your wisdom to lead me many times.”
“What I really want to say is I love you, Kara. No matter how many days we have have left, I will love you. And I will love you for the rest of my life, no matter what.”
We exchanged rings, then knelt before the ministers as they prayed over us.
Raising us up, the priest presented us.
“Friends, let me present Wiley and Kara. Souls joined in love. Wiley, Kara, please kiss your soul mate.”
And we did.
We had a photographer record the whole thing in an album. It resides in a fireproof safe with a video of Chip singing, and Dad and Dottie’s wedding pictures.
We had a reception in the hospital cafeteria. Everyone had a blast. We had a DJ, and Kara and I danced the traditional first dance. I don’t think I was ever as happy in my whole life as I was while I held her and swayed to the music. I danced a slow dance with her Mom, while Dad did the same with Kara. It seemed lately every where I went there was a sea of tears. The high light was when Kara threw her bouquet.
Nurse Peters, the large black woman, caught it. Her husband had died in an accident, and she was alone with three kids. I think she was surprised she caught it. She had a soft spot for me.
Once she let it slip that her birthday was the next week, so I got together with the other nurses and we got her a cake. I had the gift shop deliver some flowers to her desk. At first she thought they were for a patient, then she read the card. They said she read the card and ran into her office. When she came out she had red eyes but was smiling. She cried again when she got the cake, and nearly smothered me with a hug.
There was a reporter there following a politician dedicating the new wing, noticed the party, and investigated.
After hearing background from several different viewpoints he approached me and asked if he could do a story. We were alone, so I promised he could have the story when Kara passed, with the permission of her mother, if he turned it into a celebration of her life. He agreed immediately, giving me his card.
I still have a clipping in the safe. He was an excellent writer and treated Kara with the respect she deserved. He ended it with a statement from me, saying that if you were stirred by her story make a donation to the cancer research foundations in her honor. The story got picked up, and people sent me cards of condolence. They also gave over ninety thousand dollars to research.