"He's been seeing a doctor for back pain for a year," I said. "Why didn't he find it?"

"It's a very difficult cancer to detect. The symptoms are general and mimic so many other conditions. Unless it's advanced, it's hard to diagnose – unless you're just looking for it."

I was in shock. We sought a second opinion. The diagnosis and prognosis were confirmed. I sent his records to MD Anderson. They told us there was nothing they could do. It would be a waste of money to fly there.

Our charmed life was over. The prison put David on family medical leave. His associates took over at the church. I took a sabbatical from the paper.

David began to waste away before my eyes. The bloating in the abdomen recurred whenever he tried to eat solid food. His skin began to turn yellow. Within a few weeks he looked like the scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz.

His appetite left him. I made sweet potato pie. It was his favorite and was easy to swallow. He would eat a few bites and stop. I made malts. He would drink a few ounces. I tried everything I could think of to tempt him. I even pureed some jambalaya, his favorite food.

"It's not the same without the texture," he said.

The only thing he seemed to enjoy was Popsicles, and he rarely finished one before it melted into nothing. So I bought a small snow cone machine. It was designed as a child's toy, but you could make a small amount at a time with it. I purchased every flavor of syrup imaginable, including the cream topping he liked. I made him mini snow cones every couple of hours. At least that way he got some fluid in him.

I put our bed on the porch. David loved the sound of the fountain. He liked being able to look into the back yard and enjoy the beauty of budding and flowering trees. Our running rose bush was in full bloom. At its height it had over two hundred open roses. I kept one in a vase beside David's bed. He loved the smell. The bush continued to bloom throughout his illness. In the summer heat, it had fewer blooms, but there was never a day when at least one new bloom didn't open.

On his good days, he would sit in the swing and hold my hand or entertain visitors. He always had a funny story to share. At first he did a lot of reading, but soon he couldn't concentrate. I moved the television to the porch. He would watch the news channels or old westerns. When the pain would grow intense, he would curl up in a fetal position. That was the only position that seemed to give any relief.

Zach moved home to help nurse his Dad. He took a sabbatical from his hospital position. He used his skills to give me a break. He insisted that I keep writing Lander's Bumpy Landings.

"You need an outlet he said. Take a walk down memory lane and write about funny incidents in your life. And quit neglecting Faith," he told me.

All of my energy had been directed towards David. I had a hard time focusing on Faith and the boys, but at Zach's insistence, I took breaks to do things with his siblings. Josh was newly married. I use the term newly loosely. He and Ivy had been married for over a year. She and I grew close as I spent time with her, too. She stayed with David at least once a week.

"Zach needs his Mama time, too," she said.

Still, most of my days were spent with David.

I got out our photo albums, and we relived our thirty years together. We played the VCR tapes of Christmas's past and birthdays. I had our old 8mm movies of the boys' early years put on DVD. We watched them learn to walk. At night I would press my body against his back. The added heat seemed to sooth him some and let him sleep a little.

By July, he had ceased trying to sit in the swing. I suggested we replace our bed with a hospital bed so we could raise the head, but he rejected that idea.

"It would be too small for us," he said. "I need your warmth, Syd."

During the day, we propped him up on pillows so he could see out into the yard. At night, I spooned with him until the pain became so intense that he would have to curl up in a ball. Then I would massage his back and sing to him. His favorite was "You Light Up My Life."

On August 20th, he sat up in bed for the first time in six weeks.

"Look, Syd," he said. "Look at the light." He shaded his eyes. "I see a garden. There are the most beautiful rose bushes. There's a fountain in the middle. Someone's walking by the fountain." His face lit up with a wide smile. "It's Jesus," he said. "That's Jesus. He's ready for me to come home."

He lay back down on the bed. I sat down beside him and softly caressed his brow.

"If Jesus wants you to come home," I said, "then you go on David. I'll stay here with Faith and the boys for a while, but I'll be there before you know it."

"Not yet," he said. "But soon. There's something I have to do first."

"What's that?" I asked.

"I need to tell the kids goodbye," he said. "The rest is a surprise."

I called the kids. Each of them spent some time alone with their Dad. Afterwards, we all gathered around his bed.

"Heaven's such a beautiful place," he told us. "I can feel its peace. Best of all, Jesus is there. He wants all of you to come there, too. I want all of you to be there with us one day. I saw Maw and Paw Gilbert. You don't know them, but they love you anyway. Live for Jesus," he said. "That's your ticket. Live for Jesus."

He lay down and closed his eyes. Zach said he was in a coma. He wasn't curled up in a little ball. He was lying on his back. His breathing was ragged, though. We all sat around and talked. At 11PM, Zach suggested that everyone get some rest.

"He could go tonight, or it could be a day or two. Whichever it is, I made him a promise. I told him he would be alone with Mama when their anniversary came. It starts at the stroke of midnight."

I'd forgotten what day it was. Our thirtieth anniversary would be August 21, 2000.

I climbed into bed with David. He turned on his side, like he used to do when I got back in bed after getting up to go to the bathroom.

"David?" I said. "Are you awake?"

His breathing didn't change. He was still in a coma. I snuggled up to his back. He put his arm around my leg.

When he did that, I thought he must surely be conscious. I leaned up and looked over his shoulder. His eyes were shut. He didn't respond when I called his name. I lay back down and put my arm back around him.

I must have dozed off because I was startled when he sat up. The clock said 12AM. I sat up and stared at my husband.

"Happy anniversary, Syd," he said.

I started to cry.

"Don't cry, Sweet," he said. "I told Jesus I would come, but not before our anniversary. I needed to be with you on our anniversary." He opened a drawer in the little table beside our bed. He took out a card and handed it to me.

I looked down into a rose with love for roots. In the center was a heart with a cross in the middle.

"Jesus kept our marriage together, Syd," he said.

I opened the card.

I promised you a lifetime, darling,

But all things come to an end.

My death may break your heart

But Jesus can help it mend.

I promised you a lifetime darling.

I wasn't always so faithful or loyal

There's one who won't break your heart

The robes He wears are royal.

I promised you a lifetime darling,

But Jesus promised you eternity

I'll be waiting on the other side

That's an absolute certainty.

"It's beautiful David," I said. Tears were running down my face. "I didn't get you anything."

"You're all I need," he said. He leaned over and kissed me. "Come sit on the swing with me."

We sat on the swing. He held my hand. I leaned my head on his shoulder. He rocked the swing slowly. After a while he tilted my head back and kissed me again.

"I'm tired, Syd," he said.

"Why don't you lay back down?" I suggested.

He put his head in my lap.

"I'll just lay here," he said.

When Zach came out at 5AM, I was smoothing David's hair back from his forehead. Tears were running down my face.

"He's gone," I said.

"He gave you the card." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes. He wasn't strong enough to draw that," I said.

"I helped," he said.

"Thank you, son."

"The time we spent together was special," Zach said. "We fixed what broke when I told him I was gay. We shared how much we love one another. I just wish it hadn't taken death for us to really talk."

"I'm sure he wished the same thing," I said.

I pulled some sweat pants on under the t-shirt I wore for pajamas, and we called the funeral home. Once they took David away, I went in the bathroom to shower and dress. When I looked in the mirror, I did a double take. I reached up to my right ear. The tiny diamond in the middle of the rose was gone. At that I broke down and started to wail. Zach came in to try and comfort me. I showed him the earring.

"I've lost them, flushed them, and washed them down the drain, but every time we found them. This time the diamond is gone from the rose. It's so tiny; I'll never find it. I guess it's fitting. The symbol of our love died with David."

"Your love is not dead," Zach said. "It's just taken on a new dimension."

I smiled sadly at him. "Tell that to the rose," I said. "What are Josh and Faith doing?"

"They're cleaning up downstairs," he said. "We're going to be making some calls soon. Once we do, the house is going to fill up with people."

I took my shower and got dressed. I was blowing my hair dry when a knock came on the bathroom door.

"Mama." It was Faith's voice.

"It's not locked," I called.

She came in. Her hand was cupped in front of her. She held it out to me.

"I found this when I was folding the sheets on the bed," she said.

In her hand nestled a tiny, glittering jewel.

"The diamond," I said.

Zach and Josh were standing just outside the door.

"I told you your love didn't die," Zach said.

"No." I choked the word out through tears. "It lives on in the three of you."

Josh took the earrings to a jeweler that day. They replaced the diamond in the one and made sure the prongs in the other earring were tight. I wore them to David's funeral.

That's our history, Faith. Some of it is painful, some of it joyous. Through all of it our love grew. It grew to be more like God's love, until it no longer resembled what we had in the beginning. If I could have foreseen what it would take to purify our love, I might never have begun the journey. I would have missed out on so much.

Last night I had a vision. It wasn't a dream. I know the difference. David came to talk to me. He told me that Jesus is ready to take me home. He told me not to be surprised if I find Jesus waiting for me in the spray beside a waterfall.

"He meets each of us in a different place," he said. "Maw's place was a field of black-eyed Susans. She loved those flowers. Mine was a rose garden. I think yours will probably be by a waterfall, Syd. You've always loved listening to water. You know what the ironic thing is? You splashed the water of God's love in so many lives, but especially in the lives of your family. You were our human fountain. I'm waiting, Sweet. It's time to come home."

#

When Faith got up the next morning, she looked down at her calendar. Zach was flying in that afternoon.

"Great," she thought. "I need his help to get ready for the wedding."

That night Ivy fixed dinner for all of them: she and Josh, Zach, Aaron and Faith. After dessert, Faith tapped her spoon on her glass.

"I need your full attention," she said. "As you know, Aaron and I are getting married in Mama's back yard in front of the rose garden. There's something that has to be built to complete it. I'm going to need your help."

"Built?" Josh said. "What are you talking about Faith? The wedding is less than two weeks away."

"I know. You and Josh have to work, but Zach can help me."

"What am I building?" Zach asked.

"A waterfall behind the running rose."

"Are you out of your mind?" he asked.

"No. Listen." She picked up the last of Mama's journal. "This is how Mama's journal ended." She started to read. "Last night I had a vision..."

When she finished, not an eye was dry in the room.

"A waterfall it is," Zach said.

Faith took out a stack of cards. Each had a rose with love in its roots.

"These were in Mama's journal," she said. "They trace the course of their love. I want you guys to read the journals, but these are a sneak preview."

May 12 was a perfect day for an outside wedding. A gentle breeze blew. The sun shone brightly. Faith was standing in the master bedroom arranging her veil in front of the mirror. She heard a commotion in the hallway.

"Don't go in there," Ivy said loudly.

"The groom isn't supposed to see the bride on her wedding day," Teresa added.

"Baloney," Aaron said. "David ignored that old wives' tale, and I intend to follow his example."

The door to the room burst open. Faith turned towards Aaron. He stopped. Faith could hear his intake of breath from where she stood. He shut the door behind him and leaned on the closed portal as though his knees needed help to keep him upright.

"You're beautiful," he breathed. He walked across the room, never taking his eyes from Faith's. Dropping to the floor in front of her, he took her hand. In a solemn voice he recited David Lander's poem.

Do you want to spend a lifetime, darling, 

In times of good and well?

But will you stick beside me

Through those of thickest hell?

Do you want to spend a lifetime darling,

Loving me, faithful and true?

But when immaturity has passed,

Will you love me for saying, 'I do?'

Do you want to spend a lifetime, darling?

This is your last chance to refrain.

Because after the vows are spoken, love;

It's much too late for pain.

"Of course I want to spend a lifetime darling," Faith said.

Aaron reached in his pocket. He took out a jeweler's box and flipped it open. Inside nestled a Blackhills gold necklace. A pendant shaped like a treble cleft hung from a chain. In the center of the curved base, a rose rested. Three grape leaves framed the right side.

"My token of love to match the roses on your ears," he said. He took the necklace from its box and fastened it around her neck. "Faith Angelica Lander, I can't promise you a lifetime without pain, but I'll try not to bring too many thorns into your life. I want you to wear this talisman of my love. The diamond in the center represents the purity of our love. It is true and can endure sickness or health, poverty or wealth, adversity or opportunity"