No one from the LDS Church knew of the quickening of Patrick Nolan’s soul to the Spirit World. It was the saddest, strangest day I had ever spent.
The funereal funeral was a secret affair. No one knew Patrick Nolan had died—that Laurie Nolan had been living in mortal sin for 13 years.
Caitlin & I did as we were told, Caitlin, still grieving & I, taking no delight in what I had dreamt of for as long as my eyes had beheld the glory of David Dalton.
In the B.C. era (before the Church), I had wanted Mother to marry David, but in this New Era, I realized 2 wrong people were trying to do the right thing.
The glories of the terrestrial & telestial heavens shined their pallid light upon us as David knocked on the pastor’s door, bearing redemption on the other side.
A baby grand sat in the corner of the room, the top of which sat a picture of Jesus. For some reason, it made me think of a picture of a woman’s late husband.
Swiss clocks adorned the high walls, chiming ten, creating a clamor, signaling that the hour of reckoning had come.
To write one’s own vows was to promise more to one another than even God expected, & so it made sense that David & Mother had written their own.
We were to become a blended family, but our mixture would remain homogenous.
“David, when I think of you, I think of the guardian angel who came to us all those years before, bearing good tidings of great joy,” I said.
