Gordon was old of age and old at heart, with wrinkled hands and a withered look in his eyes that long ago lost its twinkle. This particular morning, as with every Saturday morning, he rose early and pressed his dress shirt before heading out. He had a date to keep at the old train station. When he was a child, Gordon had loved sitting on the bench at the old Arcadia train station watching people rush by; but over the years, as the popularity of trains decreased, the station had been abandoned… but Gordon kept returning. The Arcadia hadn’t lost all its original beauty, but time had been as unkind to it as it was to Gordon. 

            Today as he sat down on the wooden bench that was centered on the old platform…. He looked over, right beside the tracks, and saw a young boy of about seven years old. The boy clung tightly to his mother’s coarse flannel skirt but was captivated by something across the pavilion. Gordon followed the boy’s blue eyes into the amber eyes of another… A little girl about eight-years old. She looked so familiar to the old man. The two children held each other’s eyes with an uncanny interest that was well beyond their years. As they grasped their parents, they were slowly pulled closer and closer together until they held what little conversation children of their age could manage.

            Gordon blinked his eyes and the picture he saw suddenly changed. Infront of him now was a young man, slowly growing into his body and standing awkwardly next to the same amber eyed girl as they awaited the train into town. They nervously held a steady stream of small talk, all the while Gordon, beginning to lightly sweat, could feel the butterflies in his stomach. Unbeknownst to him, fighting the same exact feelings struggled to make eye contact with him. Suddenly they both began laughing at some terrible joke. A joke that the old man could not possibly have heard but could recall word for word. As they laughed, they finally caught each other’s eyes. Gordon’s heart began to race. Then the young man leaned in and very sloppily kissed the girl he had so innocently met years before in that very spot. 

            As the old man was overcome with emotion and wiped gentle tears from the wrinkled skin beneath his eyes, he felt impressed to look up once more. He now glanced up at a young adult. The young man stood on the Arcadia platform where he had meticulously arranged candles, enough to light up the platform without detracting from the romantic twinkle of the stars. It felt as if the world had stopped in this rustic train station and all of it waited in anticipation for her. This young man was no exception as he paced back and forth with his sweaty palms clutching a leather box. Then Gordon caught himself mirroring the young man. They both fiddled in his pocket with the ring from that very box. Gordon’s sweaty hands tightened their grip on that ring, having long ago memorized the scrapes and chips that its many years of use had inflicted on it. He looked up in time to hear the man on the pavilion recite words over and over…. Marie dear, I have known you since I was seven years old, …  Gordon began to mouth the rest of the words… Since that day, I have hoped and waited eagerly for this moment. My dearest M, will you marry me?

 He had managed to hold back the salty tears somewhat successfully before, but now he wept. He couldn’t see through his blurry eyes, but he didn’t need to in order to remember Marie walking slowly in after what felt like hours of painful anticipation. She was about 5’7” with blonde hair like he had never seen anywhere else. Tonight, it fell down her shoulders, and although she had done her best to keep it comfortably out of her eyes, he could see her hiding meekly behind a few golden strands. She was the type of person that immediately caught your eye when she walked into a room and held it when she began to speak. Gordon had loved the way she filled every room with warmth and made everyone feel so important. She was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, and he loved her with everything he had. Years he spent with her. Long but not long enough. Wonderful but not without regret. Adventurous but not absent of pain. Full of Love… He was jolted out of his thoughts as he heard her exclaim

I Do!   

Gordon remembered distinctly what happened next. The young man could not get up off his knee. His relief had paralyzed him in the same moment his joy had made him whole. He quivered in uncertainty as he recognized that the responsibility he now embraced. He knew she would need all of him, and he would need all of her. As he sat on his knee, trying to get ahold of his emotions, he promised himself something. He promised he would make sure she always felt loved, never felt mistreated, always had a friend and confidant, and never felt alone. The old man had kept his promise. He knew he made mistakes, but he was overcome with peace knowing that he had fulfilled his promise.  

Gordon stirred and looked up at the stars, they were aligned just as they had been so perfectly when she had needed him most. That day Marie had been heartbroken at the news from the doctor, she was infertile. It had been terrible for her, and when Gordon had gotten home he knew without asking. He quickly threw some blankets and the beaten up six string guitar in the back of their pickup and coaxed her out of the house. He drove his young wife to that old Arcadia train station and sat with her in their old wooden chair on the platform. Her stress slowly melted away as he played the guitar and gently sang her to sleep under those stars. They frequented this place often throughout their lives and Gordon couldn’t break the habit.

As Gordon tried to gather his thoughts, he fought the memory of their last nights here. He had known something was wrong. In their old age, they had both remained nimble and had found it easy to boost themselves up the few feet it took to sit on top of the train station platform. One day she simply could not find the strength. She assured him it was just a nagging cold. That cold had never left. After the doctors had broken the news, they frequented the station less and less, but Gordon knew the peace that the Arcadia gave his wife. With some help, he built a ramp to replace the broken staircase that had fallen to pieces. Then he placed her favorite armchair in the middle of the Arcadia. That night he guided his wife up to the station for the first time since she had started chemotherapy. He rolled her slowly up the ramp and watched as tears filled her eyes when she saw the chair. He helped her sit comfortably, covered her with a blanket, and strummed his guitar until she fell asleep to his raspy voice. That next morning, she did not wake. Gordon was lost, the old man wished he hadn’t woken either and felt lifeless. He eventually found himself on his knees, in tears at the station praying harder than ever. He missed her, he sorely missed her. Fifty-five years of companionship had just been ripped from him. He wanted to see her and hear her again. He wasn’t asking to die but he knew that his reason to live had gone. She was his light. She was his happiness and joy. Gordon’s emptiness never fully left, he visited the Arcadia Station.

 As he again wiped tears from his eyes, Gordon was jolted out of his daydreaming by the quiet but strong horn of a train. He knew that trains did not run through the station anymore but he clearly heard that familiar old call. He wished she was hear, she loved the old steam engines that passed here. He shook off the noise, attributing it to his defunct hearing aids, but when he looked in his pocket he found an old train ticket. The ticket had no departure time or destination, but it held a quote, scripted in flowing gold lettering. 

“I am the resurrection,

 and the life: he that believeth in me, 

though he were dead, yet shall he live”

John 11:25

            Then all of sudden, he felt a soft glow of a pure white light break the silent darkness of the night. He closed his eyes, once more, warmed by the radiant light. Eyes still closed, he heard the train come to a stop but heard no engine and smelled no smoke. He heard no footsteps and no movement but could felt at peace. After sitting for a moment, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder say “Gordon, this is the day. We must hurry my son, Marie is waiting”  

Astounded, Gordon turned to see an old conductor… amongst other things, he wondered “How will she recognize me now that I am so old and withered Father?”

 “Don’t you worry young man; she has been watching over you every single day since she passed” The man chuckled softly and finished “And you might recognize that you have changed a bit yourself”. 

In astonishment, Gordon stood without his cane and sure footedly walked to the train, where he boarded with an anxious excitement. He felt young again and wasn’t sure if it was the thought of his wife or the sudden lack of wrinkles in his skin, but he felt renewed. His wife was waiting patiently for his return, as was he. The conductor didn’t turn on any engine or push any buttons but upon his entry into the train cabin Gordon felt himself and the train move comfortably forward. As they rode on, it dawned on Gordon who this conductor was. He recognized him from pictures and stories, and he could feel him proudly looking on as Gordon prepared to come home.  Gordon’s train had arrived to return him home