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Wedding Day

Yesterday one of my stories changed. It was awkward, unsatisfying, intriguing, and self-loving. I wanted to dance and be happy. I wanted to celebrate as I looked at a bride and her husband stood in a scenic garden surrounded by God’s greens. They took an oath to honor each other. The privacy of their words not spoken to us but to each other, their tickled faces and gentle touches, it was wonderful and heroic and humorous.

So as the story goes one of my own stories changed, with this man he carried his brothers that showed a devotion to him that was unknown. The wedding party was asymmetrical in its own way. Non-traditional and unpressured. If this man were to fall his brothers would have been there to support his every stance. The sweat that beaded down his face was wiped away with love. Not to impress or put on a show they carried each other in a way that let you know that family really does love and exist. Thier sister exalted each of them as they exalted her in return. I watched smiles in a circle reach its heights. I saw happiness exhibited and given. Just the chance and the moment to be there was amazing in its delight.

Someone told me that I use too many words to describe certain moments and I say they should be treated as delicacies. As these men danced and protected their name, their brother, their sister, as well as their family, they reached a delectable ability to be loved and to show love. Why not dip your finger in that sauce and taste it? These are gifts that get to surround me and I drink bits from its cup.

I truly thank them for each and every movement that was presented to me. Thank you all again for changing my story.

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