I had three weeks’ notice to plan for the trip to see my sister become a wife, but it only took two days for the mailman to deliver my lace dress. I rummaged through my daughters’ and husband’s closets for something to match.
The ten-hour drive resulted in my children fighting over which movies to watch and who got to eat the last gummy shark. They also shared laughter from the bottom of their bellies.
In Toledo, the groom found the rings he lost, and I ran across a sheet of ice to collect the bouquets I forgot in the car. The bride smiled.
After two families tied a bow to become one, we celebrated with pasta and Peroni.
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash
Join me at this week’s YeahWrite challenge!
Will you paint me a picture?
Give me red first. Like lust. Then love, and sometimes anger, but always finish with love again. Orange for pumpkins during our favorite season, Detroit Tigers, and the street cone I tossed out of our nineteenth-floor window. Show me yellow like the sun at Coney Island and the hair of the first little girl I wanted to have. Green like the lawn I prayed we would one day own, and I suppose your favorite football team, too. Blues like the ocean in St. Thomas and tears I’ve cried, both good and bad. Purple for the flowers you bought me that one year.
Shadow and shade the death and sadness, because our lives have had that, too.
And please don’t forget gold for the ring that sparkles on my finger, and white for the dress the day I said, “I do”.
Baby? Paint our picture of forever.
Photo courtesy of Morgan Sessions/Unsplash.
The space between us is a canyon that has been weathered by storms of time.
Days gust past with dust from yesterday’s squall and I reach to you; my fingertips grasp at nothing but the breath from your lips. The crevasse is so wide, my voice couldn’t reach you. Shouts come out sounding like warm breeze.
I’ll fill this canyon with tears and I’ll swim to you, no matter the swiftness of current. I’ll pray for an earthquake to shake the soil beneath our feet, reminding us of our journey.
I love you, no matter where the dust takes us.
Photo courtesy of Kalen Emsley/Unsplash