She hadn't seen the sunlight in three days and if Megan could have it her way, she would never see it again. But the Easter sun rose through the shades, and her mother's plea to join the family for church got her to move from her bed of tissues, photos, and a crumpled-up, grey sweater with the word ‘army’ written across it in big, bold, black letters.
It had been ten months into Ian’s deployment – only two till he came home – when the soldiers knocked on his parents’ door to deliver the news, the one that every family desperately hopes to never receive. Megan had been visiting his family when the soldiers came. It did not seem real, and Megan was in denial for two weeks until it had hit her that he would never return. The denial was replaced with an empty, dry feeling as Megan realized not only would he never come home to her, but their future together had become no more than a fantasy.
Her bed had transformed into her greatest support system for weeks following that day. It was the only place she could be with Ian – deep in her dream world where he could still reach out his arms to hold and love her as he did before. But sometimes those dreams morphed into night terrors that left her screaming his name until her parents or sister woke her up. Her family tried to help. They were supportive and took care of her, listened and held her when her sobs would not cease. They knew the pain would remain, but they had hopes that she could at least one day get to a point where it was bearable.
Megan showers and dresses, avoiding those outfits that hold memories of Ian, but after three years of dating it’s hard to find something that doesn’t. She pulls the copy set of his dog tags around her neck and drops them under her shirt. She slips the ring he had given her before his departure into place on her left hand. She attempts to put on her make up, but as she notices the foundation and powders only emphasize her puffy eyes and dry skin – she washes it off. Ian always said she was prettier without make up anyway.
In the car, her mother and father sit in the front seat while Megan and her younger sister share the back. Easton Corbin’s “I Can’t Love You Back” plays on the radio; the deep voice ringing through in a melancholic, nostalgic tone as the singer muses of lost love. As the song’s lyrics sink in to find meaning in the hearts of everyone in the vehicle, her mother changes the station. But it’s too late – tears welled up in Megan’s eyes. Her father suggests turning back home, but Megan speaks, her voice weak and shaky, asking to keep going.
They reach the church shortly. It is tall with narrow, stained-glass windows and wooden crosses that top each of the towers of the building. As they walk to the doors, Megan's mind wanders back to the last time she had attended this church. She had worn a black dress and heels. In front of her, all she saw was Ian’s wide smile and his Army Blues in the photograph hung up next to the closed casket and, as the funeral carried on, she remembered begging God that it was another soldier’s body in the casket and that another family would have to feel the pain that continued to throb in her chest.
It has been a month since the funeral, but just like that day, she walks through the doors and finds that the once comfortable, happiness that used to generate from the many familiar faces within the church has been replaced by a foreign, uninviting feeling. She begins to take deeper breaths as anxiety makes a nest inside of her. Her mother's hand gently takes her own and guides her to a pew.
The church quiets as mass starts, the smell of burning candles fill their noses, and the mash of various voices coming together to sing of angels and following God’s son rings through the church, but Megan only vaguely notices these things as her mind continues to wonders.
She remembers the first time she met Ian. It was the summer, about four years ago, during her sophomore year, when her family moved to town. She had been walking around her new home town when she noticed the church. The gothic structures were intriguing and she felt as though it was calling to her. She had always been fond of the quiet, serene sound of an empty church and when Megan opened the big doors she found it almost as she expected. In the third pew from the front, a boy sat looking up at the altar. She walked up to the front and sat in the same row on the opposite side of the aisle. Megan stared at the altar.
After a few minutes, she peered at the boy and found him staring at her. She remembers she had quickly looked away and that her cheeks became hot. The boy stood and walked to the pew in front of Megan. He sat and turned to look at her, but Megan avoided eye contact. The boy had been cute - brown hair and green eyes and a build that screamed sports player. He asked her for her name.
For hours, they sat talking and joking, discussing their likes and dislikes, their families, where they'd been, and where they wanted to go.
After a while, Megan didn’t remember why she had to leave, but as they started toward the door she had asked, "Ian, why were you sitting in here?"
"Well Megs," he started. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes became full of frustration, a look she came to adore throughout their time together. “I came here looking for answers.”
“To what?”
“My future, I guess. I can’t figure out what path to take. I thought God would guide me.”
“Did you find your answers?”
He paused as they had reached the door. He looked down at her with a sudden clarity. “I think I may have found one.”
It was cheesy, but it was also a memory she cherished. From that moment on, Ian had become her world, and now, her world was gone. Her life was full of questions now, and she doubted anyone, even God, could ever answer them. Megan felt that the best parts of her had been stolen away from her. She was left with nothing but the bad.
The priest blesses the congregation and Megan and her family walk solemnly to their car. Behind her, someone calls her name. Ian’s mother, Sophia, walks up to her.
“Megan, I am so glad you came to mass today,” the chunky woman pulls Megan into a hug and Megan tries to wrap her limp arms around the woman. “I was going to give this to your parents, but I’m happy I was able to give it to you personally. Before leaving, Ian, my baby boy, wrote letters to a few people. I found them in his room the other day while packing up a few things to bring down to the shelter.” Her glossy eyes stare at a small letter in her hands with Megan’s name written in Ian’s handwriting, she hands the letter to Megan and continues after a short breath. “In mine, he had asked that I let you help in making decisions about his things. I’m hoping you would be willing to spend some time with me over the next week.”
Megan’s throat grows tight as she tries to speak, but nothing comes out save for the tears that have start running down her cheeks. A tear lands on the envelope in her hands as she stares at the pointed letters written across it.
Noticing her difficulty, Sophia says, “Call me if you’re free next week, okay, dear?” She begins to turn away, but something holds her in her place. “Megan, you truly are an extraordinary young woman. You’re strong and beautiful and brave. Ian always told me that there was just something special about you.” Tears begin to run down Sophia’s face, holding for a second within the creases around her mouth, and her voice cracks when she says his name. “I consider you my daughter as much as he was my son. I want you to know that, and I know he would have wanted that, too.” She wraps her arms around Megan again, and this time, Megan clings to her tightly. Sophia turns and walks away.
Megan’s heart warms at Sophia’s words. But the letter, stiff in her hands, weighs heavily on her mind.
When they reach home, Megan races to her room, and carefully, gently opens the letter. His handwriting was chicken scratch, but she recognized it as if it was her own.
Hey Megs,
If you’re reading this, it probably means that I didn’t make it home. And it also means that I didn’t make it to our wedding. Megs, you’re my world. I could not imagine a day without you and I had hoped you would never have to imagine one without me.
Babe, I want you to know that the time I’ve had with you has been so special, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. You made me laugh and you made me think, and you helped me become the man I am, the man you always believed I could be.
We always promised each other that our love would never end – forever and always, right? Well Megs, I’m promising you now that even if my soul leaves this Earth – my heart will always be with you.
Anyway, I’m sure they’ve got a bench somewhere up there for this lonely, old romantic. That’s where I’ll be. Waiting.
Megs don’t forget who you are. Although you believed that I was what made you better, the truth is that you were always the better half of me. Keep your head high and your heart open.
I love you Megs.
Ian
She can hear his voice in her head reading the letter to her. It is deep and melodic, just as the voice of the country singer from the radio. Her eyes take in the words over and over, until her tears blur out every one of them. She closes her eyes and feels the salty tears run down her cheeks stinging the dry skin as she holds the letter to her heart.
“Always and forever, baby.”