All morning I saw it. On the counter as her hair was styled, on the desk while she read a letter from her groom, on the bed while she put on her dress, on the seat when she settled into the Rolls Royce. I’m not sure what I thought it was. A to do list? An order of events? Her vows, waiting to be memorized? But, in all honesty, I didn’t even give it a second thought. It was just a notebook. A bound set of paper with a few words scribbled between the lines. Just a few words on a page.
Those pages… those words…they made me cry.
While Converse tried to keep his composure and not cry too hard, I grabbed a kleenex, too.
All her attendants had walked in already.
The friends and family were sitting expectantly.
Converse had his eyes glued to the back door.
And there it was. In her hand. The notebook.
It wasn’t a to do list. It wasn’t wedding notes or vows or packing lists. It wasn’t just a few pieces of paper held together by wire.
Holding a microphone, with her voice shaking (yes, she was emotional…it was her wedding day, after all), she read to him – from behind closed doors – the words from the deepest parts of her heart.
She proclaimed to him and all her friends and family that he was her choice and she was excited to be marrying him.
Because she loves him.
From the bottom of her heart.
And there it was.
A muggy day in July.
Her wedding day.
The day Rashawnda married Converse.
And oh boy. It was a happy happy day.