Heather had this, sort of, light about her.
She just shined.
But after she lost that arm,
she was like a different person.
Everything went dark.
I think, maybe after she lost that arm,
that maybe she didn't really want people seeing her anymore.
Not being perfect.
She felt like if she wasn't the most beautiful girl in Alpena County,
Dave wouldn't love her anymore.
And that couldn't have been further from the truth.
It's hideous.
Oh my God, look!
Come on, let's go.
David?
Can you really make that?
I think so.
I just want you to be happy.
Can you make it out of gold?
Are you serious?
We can't afford that.
Do you still love me?
Yes, more than anything.
Please make it out of gold.
Took out a second mortgage.
Sold the tractor...
Bandsaw.
Is that made of gold?
Yes, it is.
Are you a princess?
Where did you get it?
My prince made it for me.
I think it's beautiful.
Bye.
Every woman wants to be beautiful.
But it was like Heather's whole identity was locked up in it.
She wanted to be the most beautiful girl all the time.
It was like a drug,
and she couldn't get enough of it
and Dave couldn't give her enough of it.
Then, of course, winter came, Heather got sick.
The test's have come in, it is pulmonary gold disease.
As long as your body keeps absorbing
the gold through your skin, there's very little I can do.
You've got to take off that prosthetic.
No.
I can't take off my golden arm, ever!
- Sir? - Whatever she wants.
It's okay.
I had a dream...
A terrible dream.
Promise me something.
Anything.
When I die, bury me with my golden arm.
Promise.
Yes.
Say it.
I will bury you with your golden arm.
_
After Heather passed, there wasn't much work around here,
so, Dave had to lay me off.
And when the recession hit,
nobody would buy an handcrafted furniture.
I need it back.