Isabella stood at the podium in the ugly green gowns we had to wear, but, like always, she looked beautiful in it. Her wavy brown hair was down below her shoulders and her sapphire eyes burned with the enthusiasm and achievements of this day. She smiled.

She was valedictorian and her speech was like music from her mouth. Her voice, the one I heard every day since sophomore year, the one that I worshipped, flowed easily. I listened to each word, even though I’d heard the speech thousands of time. She’d sit in her room and rehearse it to me over the phone, or in my car. I never got annoyed. She would smile and sing the words she’d written and I just loved hearing her voice. I smiled with her.

The end of the speech was my favorite. “Today we are the kings and queens. Today, a group of crazy kids in ripped up jeans and sneakers are ruling the world. These caps and gowns are our crowns and robes. So, remember this moment. We will never feel this way again. Our hearts will never pound this loud, our hands will never shake and we will never be proud as we are today. Long live the memories. Long live the love and friendships and this feeling. And, if by any chance fate separates us all, tell our story to your children and to their children. Keep the legacy alive. Long live the Canal High School class of 1986!” She threw the crown into the air and ran to me.

She threw her arms around me and I threw mine around her. We stood there with our arms around each other as everybody screamed and cheered. I leaned my head down and kissed her for a long time.

I pull away. “We should go find the guys so you can use that Polaroid and get a few last shots.” I said.

Isabella had gotten the Polaroid camera for her birthday last year. She took it everywhere like one would take their legs and arms and she was always snapping photos. She had hundreds from this year in a box in her room.

She smiled again. “Sounds good! Can you believe we did it? Can you believe that we are finally out of high school?”

Her excitement was contagious. She was always happy; in fact, I had only seen her cry once when her gold fish died sophomore year. It was no wonder I was never sad or upset when she was around. It had only been a few silent tears but it was the worst thing I ever saw. My girl’s tears were like a stab in the heart. Who ever heard of angels crying?

We found our little group of friends who had already met their families and taken off the hideous gowns.

“We did it!” My best friend Aaron screamed. He came up to me and Isabella and stood between us with one arm on each of us. He sighed. “Man, I seriously thought I would flunk out.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, okay. You had the highest grades besides Bella!”

He shrugged. “So, Bella, I’m guessing you have that Polaroid with you? Like always?”

“Yes!” She pushed away from Aaron and ran to her mom squealing and smiling. I followed her and hugged my mom and dad who were standing next to Bella’s. She pulled me with her to the rest of the group and her mom snapped photos. Then we all got into our cars and drove to the local park for the graduation party or friend Rochelle was throwing for us all.

We sat in the grass on lawn chairs and blankets as the sun set around us. Fireflies came out and we ran trying to catch them like a bunch of little kids. At some point, Rochelle stood up and told us all to quiet down. “Okay guys, so I decided that we should all get a chance to make a fabulous speech just like Bella’s!” Everyone cheered. “So, who wants to start?”

I watched our friends make their speeches with my arm around Isabella who leaned her head against my shoulder. I knew that I would have to make my speech eventually. I knew exactly what to say and how to say it. I’d planned it before Rochelle had announced it. I had been ready for weeks.

Aaron was the last one. He finished his and looked at me. “Alright, time for my boy Andrew to get his butt up here and blab about his girl.” He winked at me as I stood up. He patted me on the shoulder; he knew my plan.

I took a deep breath. “These past four years have been the best years of my life. I met all of my lifelong friends and the girl of my dreams. I can’t even begin to explain how much I enjoyed this time. And I can’t believe it’s over. And I’m scared to death about it.” There was a little chuckle.

I wasn’t playing the funny guy tonight. I took a deep breath, my hands were shaking. I looked at Isabella who was smiling at me. I reached for her hand. She stood, confused, and stood in front of me. “Isabella, I wasn’t sure how to do this before. I debated back and forth whether or not doing it in front of everyone would irritate you, but I know now that it won’t.” I went down onto my knee and the whole group gasped and Isabella’s hand flew to her mouth. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the little black box holding the diamond ring I’d been saving up for since Christmas. “Isabella Connel, I love you more than I can begin to explain. You make me the happiest man in the world. I can’t imagine a world without you and I never want to have to find out what that would be like. Will you marry me?”

I could hear the group gasp, and whisper “Oh my goodness” but I paid them no attention. “YES!” She screamed. I slipped the ring onto her finger and she began to cry tears of joy.

Tears are coming down my face as I turn the page. Jackie sits beside me. She doesn’t ask why her dad is crying over an old scrapbook. She knows not to.

The next page is Isabella’s page. It has photos of the two of us holding hands, photos of her by the river looking at the fish in the water and her dancing around her room and singing our song at the school talent show junior year. My heart is in my throat as I look at the last photo of her. Her last photo.

The day after graduation, Isabella and I went to our favorite spot, the little creek in the woods off the highway. We went there a lot for bonfires with friends or to swim in the summer. We walked, hand in hand with our shoes off in the shallow water. I hadn’t been able to sleep the night before and I hadn’t been able to stop smiling. Neither had she.

“I can’t believe this!” She said happily. “We are getting married! Boy, can you and Daddy keep a secret!”

I laughed at her. “Are you really that surprised that I love you this much?” I turned away in mock horror.

“Of course not silly!” She said. “I just didn’t think we would get married until after college.”

I smiled. “We still can. I just want people to know that the most amazing, most beautiful girl in the world is taken. Those college guys are crazy. They take shots at everybody they can.”

“You’re going to be one of them!” She said pushing me and laughing.

I smiled. “Exactly.”

She laughed and ran. I grabbed her camera from the rock she had put it on with our shoes and chased after her. She stopped by the bank looking at a little pool of fish. I put my arms around her and snapped a picture when she wasn’t looking. She took it and ran. “No, sir!” She said over her shoulder.

I was laughing and chased after again. I caught up with her and caught her around the waist. “What’s wrong with it? You look adorable!”

She did, in my opinion. “I’m keeping this where you can’t see it ever again. Ha!”

I laughed. “Fine. But then let me get a good one of you.”

“Okay,” she said with a smile. She took a couple steps away and turned her head smiling. I snapped it. It was perfect.

We spent the rest of the day wandering around town and driving in my car. We kept the photos and camera in the trunk in the box she kept it all in.

That night, I had dinner with her family and then went home. She said she would drive over tomorrow after church.

She never came.

Around two in the afternoon, two hours after she should have been at my house, Isabella’s mother called me crying.

Isabella had come home and changed after church and got in her parent’s car to come over. At the four-way stop light of her neighborhood and the main road, a driver zoomed past the red light and slammed into her. She died instantly.

I am sitting by my daughter sobbing uncontrollably. She’d made the memory book the night before. She’d planned to give it to me when it was finished. I held the incomplete story of our lives. And her last photo, the one I had taken, and the one she hated were right there on the page. Her ring, which had been saved from her finger by her father was put there too, next to the handwritten dates of her birth and death written by her mother.

It had taken me years to get past the break. I still thought of her every morning and every night and every moment in between. I had three excellent kids and a wife who I loved with me now, but my heart still would always belong to Isabella.

I wept beside my daughter who kept her hand on my back, reading over my shoulder.

“Dad?” Joshua, my son and middle child, came into the attic then. My youngest daughter was with him. “You okay?”

I wiped away the tears and stood. “No.”

Joshua looked at the book. “Woah! Who is that?”

I fought the tears again. “Let’s go down stairs. I want to tell you three a story I never thought I would tell you.”

“Me too daddy?” The youngest one asked.

“Yes, you too, Isabella,” I said and took her hand and we made our way down stairs.

At the kitchen table, in the house I lived in now far away from Canal High School and 1986, I told the story of my angel. I told my children the story of Canal’s class of 1986 and of Isabella. Just like she’d want.

When I closed the book for the last time, I sent up a silent prayer to her, like I did all day every day. "Isabella, my girl, I still love you. I miss you. I hope this is what you meant."