Meg

I'm really worried. Dad moaned and coughed all through the night. His fever finally broke but then it peaked again.  Rory and dad are still sleeping. Rory looks so cute all squished up on the loveseat with his hairy legs dangling out.
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I decided to make a cup of strong coffee and do some reading. I didn't realize I had stuck mom's green slender pocket sized journal with me. It had a fancy magnetic closure. Once I made my coffee--regular, two sugars and evaporated milk from a can. I sat down for some mommy and me time.

Dear Future Reader,

Isn't being at the cabin wonderful?  You're probably reading this wondering how I know you're at the cabin. I'm at the cabin.

Involuntarily I looked around halfway expecting to see my mom. I shook my head and continued reading.

We come to this cabin for a month every summer. You girls got pretty proficient at splitting would, starting fires and even setting traps.

Mom, you never let us set traps. You never let daddy set traps.

Oh I'm being silly. I'm the one that had to set traps as a little girl. We were so poor I remember having to eat what we caught in those traps.

Mom.... you've told us this story a hundred times. It's taught me to be grateful and thankful. Can you get to the point--please!

Ah but I digress... The point is I wouldn't change my childhood in poverty or anything else. Suffering makes us stronger. Or it kills us! I guess we all get stronger than we die.

I wanted to chuck the journal across the room. Usually it uplifted me. I crossed to the fireplace and poke a few of the logs rekindling the fire.

I took my coffee, journal and highlighter and plopped at the tiny 50's style breakfast table. The slick pleather seat chilled my bottom. It was silver, square and had a smooth lemony yellow top with flecks of glittery primary colors throughout. I hoped mom's writing would pick up and give me a few clues.

The trouble with kids today is they don't know how to wait.

Here we go... I thought about skimming to the good parts but I forged on.

Like just then, you wanted to skip ahead didn't you? The middle is sometimes the best part! Oreos? The middle. Sandwiches? The middle! Being married? The middle!

Ma! What are you saying? You and dad didn't have a good relationship at the end?

You see, the middle of your marriage lasts forever. You don't know when it will end.

I muttered, "That makes sense..." Then outta the blue mom's journal took an unexpected turn.

I see you Meg. I see you ending up with Rory Matterson and being the most beautiful bride. Oh I wish I were there to see it. I wish I could help you pick out a dress. Do a Starbucks run when you're stressed.
At one point you're gonna think it's not worth it. With the world being the way it is, why get married? Then if you make it that far you think, I don't wanna bring children into this sick world!

Love conquers all. It hides a multitude of sins. When you find love, hold on to it. When things seem impossible that's when God does His best work.

Oh mom... How do you know these things?

Oh Meg... Your gift; it grows.

Mom, what do you mean my gift grows? I have no control over it. As a matter of fact it controls me sometimes.

Think Meg, in what ways has your gift grown?

There were these lights that led us to the cabin. That's never happened before...

Are you still thinking Meg?

I knew Daddy wasn't alright... Oh and the map illuminated in the dark. The streets we were to take lit up like runways leading us here. But my dreams mom... they're so real.

Real is good. See Meg? As your faith grows so your gift grows.

Rory woke up and remembered we were in a cabin off the grid. He sat up, yawned and pulled on the grey sweatshirt behind him.  I noticed Rory's abs. Why am I noticing Rory's abs? Focus Meg.

Rory asked me, "Hey good lookin' whatcha got cookin'?"

"You did not just say that to me right now Rory Matterson!"

Rory stood up quickly and headed into the kitchen. "How would you like your eggs Madam?"

"Much better Rory. I like my eggs like I like my men, sunny side up."

"Oh," Rory teased. "I like my eggs the way I like my woman: Soft boiled. Tough on the outside but still gooey in the middle."

Rory hugged me from behind the kitchen chair.

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