by Londyn Skye
Epilogue
Werthington Estate
April 1930
… Those were the lifetime of grand memories that a frail ninety-five-year-old James Adams had sat in the library cherishing: Lily’s journey to Winter Garden, the dark years after she had been dragged back to servitude in the old world, and the aftereffects of Levi’s ultimate grand finale. For hours, James had sat at the custom-made Dream Symphony antique piano, reliving the saga of his turbulent, yet magical, life with his beloved wife, Lily. Like a moving picture show, the mental catalogue of his wondrous eighty-five year saga with Lily had easily come to life in his mind the very moment he gazed up at her in the center of Piers LeRoux’s portrait, Musical Dreams, a masterpiece now worth millions. Even eighty-five years later, James was still just as awestruck by the sight of Lily as the day he first laid eyes on her as a boy, so much so that butterflies erupted in his stomach.
James felt the same span of emotions every decade when he and Lily would begin this two-week long walk down memory lane, leading up to the renewal of their vows. This year was to be the seventh time that he stood under the tree where he taught Lily to read. With William’s sparkling lake as their backdrop, in front of a lawn full of their massive extended family, they planned to exchange their vows, yet again. But before then, they had a tradition of sifting through hundreds of pictures and memorabilia that they had collected during their life together. It all now filled several trunks, lined shelves, and hung on walls. They poured over well-preserved programs, newspaper articles, tickets, and pictures of Lily with fans and world leaders. The one-hundred and fifty-seven letters that Lily wrote in response to all the one’s James had sent her during his stint in the war were still there. Among those letters were the pardon papers James received from President Lincoln after Harrison crafted a letter, stating the unjust circumstances that led to his death sentence. Harrison articulately detailed James’s dedication to their country, including The Freedom Rider organization he had built to help enforce the Emancipation Proclamation. That pardon letter had been personally handed to James by the president in the White house. It was framed and placed in a glass case alongside pictures of James with his brothers-in-arms, standing pridefully in uniform during the Civil war. In the middle of it all was the medal of honor he had received for his valiant service to his country and his distinguished acts of valor.
Sixty-five more years of Lily’s memorabilia was added to the collection that William had started in his library in 1865. Now in 1930, the massive collection included the first published book of Lily’s sheet music. It had sold millions of copies worldwide and was now a staple in many music schools. An entire photo album chronicled the months she had worked with Thomas Edison, who had approached her about recording snippets of music for his new invention, the phonograph. Their work together led to the first ever mass-produced wax record, one that sold out in stores at lightning speed. A framed copy of the first album now hung on the library wall, reminding them of that special moment in Lily’s life history at the turn of the century. Hanging beside that album was the framed poster of the first official cinematic moving picture in 1908, one in which Lily had been asked to compose the music score. Picture books full of students she had mentored over the years were plentiful as well. Richard Wells, the very man who had scoffed at the idea of a slave working in his class, had humbly asked her to tutor his students years later. After she stopped touring the world, Lily dedicated herself to assisting music students. For twenty years, she was a source of positivity to malleable young minds, striving to be to them what William was to her. Her appreciative students were at the helm of surprising her with a very special gift upon her retirement. The bronze statue of her seated at a grand piano became the permanent centerpiece of the courtyard near the Werthington Music Building at James’s alma mater of Ohio University.
James and Lily were always moved to tears as they sifted through memorabilia that reminded them of those unforgettable moments of their lives. But nothing brought forth their joyous tears more so than the pictures of the four cherished treasures they had created together: Jameson “Jamie” Michael Junior, a National League baseball star, who went on to become a team owner. William “Will” Alexander, whose telescope adventures with his grandmother led him to become a well-known astronomer. Levi “Lee” Wyatt, a standout pianist in his own right with abilities and looks that certainly warranted his name. And, lastly, Lillian Rose, a daddy’s girl who followed in her father’s footsteps and became a life-saving physician. Lily was insistent upon naming her sons after all the special men in her life. James was just as adamant about naming their only surviving daughter a name that always rolled off his tongue sounding like Lily and Rose: the two special ladies of his life that had inspired him to fight for American freedom. Pictures of James and Lily’s four children covered nearly every space of their walls and filled countless photo albums. Rose was not forgotten either. Her tiny casket was exhumed, and she was brought home with the original tombstone that Ava had made. And Piers LeRoux was more than happy to honor James’s request of creating an oil painting of Rose from his memory of the moment with her on the battlefield. James’s detailed description of her curly hair, her white dress blowing gingerly in the wind, her innocent face, and her sparkling crystal blue eyes, were all painted flawlessly onto a massive canvas that now hung at the top of their dual staircase.
James and Lily’s once-a-decade tradition had grown to take two weeks. They spent that time together filling picture albums of their ever-growing family and framing anything new that they had collected in the previous ten years. All the while, they took the time to appreciate all the older trinkets and treasures that sparked memories of the extreme highs and seemingly bottomless lows of their lives while coming of age together. They never wanted to forget that their love had persevered through a war, abuse, years of separation, a turbulent childhood, and even the loss of a child. They used their two-week tradition to honor the fact that they had overcome every tumultuous obstacle ever thrown in their way. All the things that were a testament to the strength of their unique bond would ultimately serve to deepen their appreciation for one another and inspire the words for the new vows they would then each write for their ceremony. Every decade, James and Lily would then stand under their favorite tree by the lake. With their massive family surrounding them, they would read their new vows to one another, snip a locket of each other’s hair, and seal it all away with all their other vows from the past.
And so, in April of 1930, at the age of 95, James and Lily’s traditional walk down memory lane together was fast approaching. On the eve that they were set to begin their seventh nostalgic voyage together, James had helped Lily into and out of her bubble bath. She was more than capable, but for years, it was just something that James loved to do for her every evening. He lotioned her back, helped her to dress, and straightened the cherished birthstone necklace from her father. James then wrapped his arms around her waist, planted a kiss on her cheek, stared up at Lily in the mirror and smiled. “Day afta’ day for the last eighty-five years, you get more and more beautiful to me,” he said to her.
Lily handed him his glasses. “Eitha’ that or you’re goin’ blind,” she teased.
James put his glasses on. “Whoa!” he exclaimed, feigning shock at the clarity of her face. “My initial assessment was definitely wrong!” He touched Lily gently on the cheek. “You’re even more beautiful than I thought.”
Lily laughed.
James gazed at her for a moment, smiled, then walked to the corner of the room. He then walked back toward Lily as the soothing music he had just started on the phonograph took over the room. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me pretty lady, I saw you from across the room, and I was wonderin’ if you’d allow an old man like me the honor of dancin’ with you this evenin’?”
“I thought you’d neva’ ask, handsome,” Lily smiled.
James took a step back, bowed, and kissed her hand. He then wrapped one arm around
her waist and held Lily’s hand with the other. Lily rested her head on James’s shoulder, he rested his on top of hers, and pulled her in as close to him as possible. Slowly and carefully they swayed, both silently lost in the essence of one another. This was James’s way of making love to his wife every night at this stage in their life. Such a small thing was equally euphoric for Lily.
When the song was over, James helped Lily into bed and laid down next to her, feeling just as satisfied as if he had actually made love to her. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear, just as he had every night since returning from the war.
Lily felt a rush of butterflies fluttering through her stomach as James gathered her tighter. He intertwined their fingers and kissed her lightly on the cheek, “I love you too,” she whispered back before drifting off to sleep.
James woke up the next morning looking forward to beginning the nostalgic voyage he was to embark on with Lily, reminiscing on those decades of ups and downs together that would inspire the new vows they wrote. Before making Lily’s breakfast, James kissed her on the cheek, just as he did every morning. This morning, however, his lips were met with a sensation he had never felt before. The odd coldness of her skin instantly jarred him into full consciousness. Slightly alarmed, he kissed her again and said her name softly at first. A rapid heart rate and a burst of adrenaline immediately overcame him when she did not reply as she usually did to his affections. Her name then came out sounding like a question as he suddenly threw back the covers. No movement, no response this time sent James spiraling into panic. He rolled Lily over and yelled her name with intense desperation. Delirium, madness, grief, despair, dismay, distress, horror, dejection, not a single one of those emotions, or even all of them combined, was adequate enough to describe James’s emotions when he laid his head upon Lily’s chest and felt nothing but his tears as they began to pool on her skin. James yanked his head up and glanced at Lily’s face in the morning sunlight. Her name escaped him again, this time sounding like it had come from a man whose mind had just completely cracked. Even all the gruesome things he had witnessed during the war could not prepare James for what his eyes were absorbing. To see Lily’s supple lips a permanent shade of blue and know they would never again utter her love for him, to know the warmth in her soft skin would never again radiate into his, to realize that her sparkling kaleidoscope eyes would never again open to gaze back at him with such love, caused James’s entire body to go numb. He suddenly collapsed back down on Lily’s chest. Only hours before, he was making love to her in his own special way and now he was holding her limp hand in a grief-stricken, inconsolable heap. To find the woman he had loved for eighty-five years in such a state may as well have been the death of James Adams as well.
Even at age ninety-five, Lily seemed healthy and strong mentally and physically. Though expectedly slower at her age, she was still very active in the lives of her family and the community. She had no illness or any other sign to suggest that her life was in jeopardy. Those facts made her death just as unexpected to everyone as her miraculous conception. As active as Lily still was in the community, it was no surprise that the news of her passing seemed to cause nearly the entire town of Athens to go into mourning. But, shockingly, her death triggered a wave of sorrow that stretched far beyond what their little town could have ever imagined.
In life, Lily set many precedents. But now, even in death, she proved to still have that ability. She became the very first musician whose death quickly spread across radio waves and international newspapers. As she traipsed across the globe in her youth presenting her art, Lily’s story, her music, the Dream Symphony, and of course, the loveliness of Lily herself had burrowed into the hearts of millions. Upon her death decades later, the reaction from her fans made it clear that the love in their hearts was as permanent as cement. Phone calls, condolence letters, sympathy cards, and flowers began to pour into James by the hundreds from around the world. There were so many, in fact, that James decided to delay the date of the funeral just to allow time for those who planned to travel from other states, and even other countries, to attend. Every second of those hours was excruciating for James. Instead of a lawn full of family listening to him recite his new vows to Lily, there was a lawn full of people for a reason he was not yet ready to face. It had him ready to crumble emotionally. His desire to eat, drink, and sleep had completely ceased. Crying in moments when he was alone seemed the only thing his body was capable of. There was no amount of tears he could shed to alleviate his anguish, but the immense amount of love that people showed for his wife gave James the fuel to push through and give Lily the sort of homecoming celebration that he knew she well-deserved.
Much like they had flocked to see the Dream Symphony, people came in droves to gather around the custom-made amphitheater the day of her funeral. This time, though, they were there to celebrate the life of the once enslaved woman whose brilliance began to shift the world on that very stage. In the very place she was introduced to the world, people of all colors, creeds, and continents filled nearly every inch of her land to say goodbye to her. A sea of family, friends, fans, and even political leaders listened intently to the eulogy given by Austin’s daughter, Georgia Lily, as she told the emotional tale of why her middle name held such significance to her and her father. Her poetic words about her Godmother not only sparked streams of tears, but also streams of other people stepping forward to testify about the ways in which Lily had altered their lives as well. In life, Lily had inspired the people who spoke. And now, even after her death, the plentiful stories they shared about their experiences with her consequently inspired a new audience of people, as the homecoming celebration of Lily Adams was the first-ever to be broadcast on live radio. Those listening had the chance to be touched by her music as well. Many of the students she had mentored came together to replay a few of her most popular musical compositions. They ended with the song Lily always played during her famous shadowed angel scene, depicting the moment she was embraced in the arms of her waiting mother in heaven.
The morning after the funeral, James stood in the foyer hugging each of his children for the longest time. Being a daddy’s girl, Lillian had hugged her father far more than her brothers during her lifetime. She could easily feel that the once strong man she knew had deteriorated over just ten days. Even the strength of his hug was not the same; she was sure to hug him with the strength he lacked. It took Lillian the longest time to find the heart to pull back from her father’s embrace. Even then, she still held his hand in a way that proved she was still a daddy’s girl. “You sure you wanna be alone, daddy? I can stay,” she said.
“I’m sure, sweetheart. But thank you,” James replied, kissing her hand. He then stepped back and gazed with pride at his brood as he slid his hands into his pockets. “Seems I’ve learned all too well ova’ my lifetime how sudden life can change … and even end at any unpredictable moment,” James sighed. “As old as I am now, I s’ppose such a thing for me is imminent. I don’t know when God will call me home, so with the fragile time I have left, I want to be sure you all know how honored I am to be your fatha’.”
James turned to his three boys. “You’d be hard-pressed to find anotha’ fatha’ on this earth who’s as proud of his sons as I am of you three. You’ve been nothin’ but the utmost astute gentlemen. Your activism in the community and the way you’ve taken care of your families has made me so proud. But nothin’ has made me prouda’ than the way you’ve taken care of and protected your sista’ … and your motha’. It’s what I wanted from my sons above all else. You’ve all managed to infuse a sense of honor into the Adams family name and made it one that future generations will be proud to carry on.”
“No dad,” Jamie replied. “The legacy of honor in the Adams name started the day you stepped onto a battlefield and put your life on the line to help free our motha’.”
Jamie’s words brought instant tears to his father’s eyes. “Thank you, son,” he replied proudly.
Ja
mes then turned to Lillian. Despite his sorrow, the sight of his only surviving daughter instantly brought a hint of a smile to his face. “And you, my beautiful girl.”
His words caused Lillian to smile as well.
“I always wanted a daddy’s girl,” James smiled. “I rememba’ the day you were born, I was …”
“Cryin’ harda’ than me and mama both,” Lillian finished.
“And when I held you in my arms for the first time…”
“My little mouth fell open, and I stared at you without a tear in my wide eyes, lookin’ utterly shocked that this big cryin’ sap was my daddy,” Lillian finished again.
James nodded and let out a faint laugh.
“You’ve told me that story a million times, and I still feel like I can neva’ hear it enough,” Lillian smiled.
“And every word of it is the truth. You were my sunshine from the day you were born. You lit up my life every day. You’ve made the reality of havin’ a daughta’ supersede the dream by leaps and bounds. It was such an honor and a privilege to work side by side with you in our medical practice for all the years that we did. I have no words to express the prideful feelin’ of watchin’ my little girl blossom into one of the finest physicians this teary-eyed sap has eva’ seen.”
