Epilogue
-Panic! At the Disco
It was a hectic October week when I received a phone call that Kate had been admitted into Tulsa General’s Maternity ward. The Anthem World Tour had us in St. Louis, Missouri on the seventeenth, the day George Abraham Walker Hanson came into the world, and I left the concert venue immediately after our show to catch the redeye. In all my haste, I still arrived just ten minutes too late—but when I did get there, the first thing I saw was Kate holding little Abe in her arms, the biggest smile I had seen since Junia was born on her face. I rushed into the room, placing a kiss on Kate’s temple as I knelt beside the bed. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” I whispered. “I ran as fast as I could.”
“We know you did,” Kate whispered back. “We’re just so happy you’re here, Daddy,”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” I reached my hand out to Abe’s tiny hand, rubbing his palm. A smile spread across my face as his little fingers circled around mine, a smirk tugging the corner of his lips.
I spent the night with them; the nurses even wheeled an extra bed in for me, knowing I had to leave the next day for a show in Cincinnati. I stayed up most of the night just watching Abe sleep, his legs dancing to his little baby dreams. Even having gone through this twice before, I was still in such awe that I had created this little perfect little person; and even though Kate and I had our differences, I couldn’t help but enjoy having shared this experience with her again. It reminded me of why I loved her, and why I had fought so hard for her all those years ago.
It felt good to remember.
I held on to that feeling as I boarded the plane the next day, knowing when I landed Ryland would be waiting at the gate for me, some ridiculous congratulatory gift in hand. We were all still adjusting to our new roles in life, and I tread a fine line being amicable with Kate; in order not to jeopardize anything, I was taking things with Ryland very slow. I used my time on stage as therapy, playing some of the best shows I have played in my life, and Ryland and I used our twelve steps and the tour as one giant detox. For now, we were just friends finding ourselves–and each other–again.
And I think that is the beauty of it all; the darkest of days and lowest of lows becomes the beauty of our most joyous celebrations.