1851 miles from her home, in a little cabin along Brockway Mountain Drive, she welcomed me in, curling iron in hand, and offered me breakfast. She was styling her mom’s hair, calmly moving through the steps of getting ready, without a touch of nerves or stress. “He planned it all,” she told me. Her eyes sparkled. “He planned our day, and told me not to worry about a thing.”
She got into her dress in one of the old lighthouse bedrooms, right across the hall from the steel, spiraling staircase that goes up to the top. The stories can be felt in there; histories of keepers and weathered storms and lives saved; tales of the love and sacrifice it takes to keep a light burning. And this story, unfolding now, of two people promising to forever be the other’s keeper… promising to always keep the light burning strong.