Thursday, July 9, 2009


We sat on a hill beneath shade trees overlooking the Hudson River, waiting. The clouds had diminished to a playful few chasing each other on the breeze. Scattered puffballs float lazily by. Powerboats cut large rippling V’s thru the sun-dimpled water below and robins fly from tree to tree in small circles of frenzy. It’s a magical place. A perfect day.

Everyone turns as the music begins. The photographers are click zipping away. Four beautiful women with perfect poise and light grace make their way down the steps and up the aisle between our groups. An adorable little couple who almost lose their way and have to be redirected trails them. Stopping haltingly near me she digs vivaciously into her basket and the boy grabs her elbow, leading her on amidst the falling petals. I glance at my friend the King, up there all alone but not for long. His eyes light up. I turn, rising to my feet with the rest.

She descends the stairs gracefully; hand on her Father’s arm. Enraptured we all stand as she slowly passes by. However beautiful her chosen ladies are and they are supremely so, the bride’s loveliness outshines them all. Adorned in twinkling white with a lacy long train whispering softly along behind her she proceeds confidently, violet bouquet clutched securely near.

Later when the holy man asks the final question of them both the day is strangely silent, as if the whole world hangs upon their answers. They look into each other’s eyes. They promise. They kiss. The crowd erupts into juvenile catcalls and appreciative applause and smiles and joyful tears.

Too quickly runs the rest of the day towards the finish. The toasts are stories of before, moving, heartfelt and hilarious. Contagious laughter spreads like fire. The near gloaming coaxes an almost full red moon into the sky. ‘One more drink!’ my friend the King says to me so I have a few one mores and garner a hug from the Queen. They’re glowing when I congratulate them.

Then I disappear into the darkness leaving the dwindling soiree’ behind but the music and merriment follow me back to my car and as I drive off I wonder why the memories last so much longer than the times spent creating them.