October 1, 2011

Also known as, the happiest day of my life!

I found myself standing in the bathroom, my nerves on high alert. People come in and out, look at me and smile. It's obvious who I am, I'm wearing a cream colored crepe back satin gown that I made myself, stitched my love and dreams into every seam. My hair cascades down my back in it's signature tight curls, and perched on top of them is a veil. I fidget with my left ring finger, which is bare for the first time since that day in early July. That day, I found myself shocked and thrilled as the love of my life, down on one knee, proffered the 1 carat pear shaped diamond sparkling on a sumptuous golden band and asked in a quavering, anxious voice if I would be his forever.

My fingers clutch my bouquet, creme colored roses with with a pop of deep purple poppies accented with silver balls and wrapped together with a charcoal grey ribbon. I take a peek in the mirror, a beautiful young woman is reflected back at me, looking nervous but excited. The blushing bride.

My mom steps into the bathroom, breaking my reverie, grinning from ear to ear. She looks amazing, her alabaster skin gleaming in contrast to the plum colored mother of the bride dress, the smile lighting up her face. She ducks in, saying to my sister, "Everyone is down there, so go take your place."

My sister smiles, picks up her smaller bouquet of purple roses, and steps outside. Taking my hand, my mom looks at me, and for a moment I feel like a child again, seeking the comfort of my mother's touch to protect me from the world.

"I am so happy for you!" she says, tears choking her voice, "You are so beautiful today, and Eric is such a good guy! I know he will take care of you."

We step into the sunlight and the spectacular view unfolds in front of us. The sky, a deep periwinkle blue, dashed with clouds as thick and white as whipped cream. The sun is beginning to set and it's light is casting a purple and pink hue through the clouds. The red rock rises above us, barren except for the occasional sagebrush and the black tar path that winds past us. We come down the path, hand in hand, the sunlight warming my face. As we round a large bush, the gathering comes into view.

Our family stands in clusters, all dressed in plum and charcoal, all beaming at us, silhouetted against the backdrop of the cliff. A 2,000 foot shear drop off into the river below, where it meanders around the distant outcroppings that seem to burst from the ground, layers of red and cream rock stacked, seemingly endless, reaching toward the sky. Majestic and breathtaking. And the best part is Eric, my love, my own. He stands next to the bishop in his charcoal grey suit, and the shock and surprise on his face is obvious. His mouth is literally hanging open, gaping at me with fascination in his eyes. I blush, feeling the heat rise to my face. His look is clear, he is blown away. He thinks I am beautiful, more than beautiful. Stunning, breathtaking. I've never had anyone look at me that way before.

And then I meet Eric's eyes.

Suddenly, the rest of the crowd fades away. I only have eyes for him, his short brown hair, his beautiful beard that glows red in the light of the setting sun, his brown eyes like pools of molten gold. Those eyes reach across the gulf, the sea of heartache and sadness and draw me to him. The bishop grins widely, and beckons me forward, though I need no beckoning.

Eric takes my hand in both of his, caressing the back of my hand, his strength and love flowing through me like electricity. I can see our lives together, late nights of laughter, our children, quiet moments just holding hands and watching TV. I can also see the hard times, the fights, deaths, family troubles. And through it all, Eric and I, hand in hand, side by side.

The bishops beams around at the family, some with tears in their eyes, and says, "Wow. Isn't this a beautiful sight! I would like to divert from what I have prepared and share this little story. This morning, my family and I took the hike up to Delicate Arch. At first, it was great. Beautiful views, a nice cool breeze. After a while though, we got tired. Our feet started hurting. Our daughters discussed turning back. You can't see the arch from the path, so we knew it was at the end, but not visible to us. But, we persevere. We kept going. Finally, we got up to the Arch. It was hard work, but the view was worth it. It was beautiful. This is like marriage," he smiles at Eric and me, clasping hands, "It's hard work, and you can't always see the end, but if you persevere, it will be worth it in the end."

~My Wedding Day!