Life has happened in this room. In this room, she’s painted her fingernails and applied mascara and talked on the phone and read many a book. In this room, she has prepared for recitals and partie and high school dances. In this room, she prepared for her last day of high school, her first day of college. In this room, she’s played with her cat and borrowed her sister’s makeup. In this same room, she grew up.
In this same room, she prepared for her wedding day.
It was a gentle morning. A morning of normal routine, of usual conversations, of typical life. A morning of distinctly powerful significance.
The morning of Charli’s wedding.
In between all the typical and routine, there were moments of treasured joy. The dress – THE dress — hung in the corner. The shoes — THE shoes — waited to be worn. The earrings, the rings, the bouquet. All these very celebratory things. Waiting for ordinary day to turn extraordinary.
When 2:00pm rolled around, though, the ordinary was gone and in its place stood a radiant bride, a deliriously happy groom, and a room full of people ready to celebrate with their favorite John and Charli.
And then – with spoken vows, a delighted kiss, and a beaming exit – they were no longer the engaged couple counting down toward their wedding, they had become the married couple reveling in their wedding day. They celebrated. They rejoiced. They danced. They sang. They played.
They ate cheese cake.
They played with butterflies.