It was early and I rolled over to see my sister still sleeping next to me. We shared a bed for what felt like the last real time we ever would. I remember feeling so content - that sense of peaceful happiness.
Truth be told, that moment of peace passed rather quickly as my nerves and excitement started to rise. It was the day I was to marry the boy I fell in love with at the young age of 12 years old.
As my sister and I made our way to mum & dad’s room, it felt like Christmas morning when we were little girls.
We laid there a moment with mum and took it all in. While we looked at one another, I felt this overwhelming gratitude for a life filled with love.
After growing up watching Father of the Bride, I watched it for the hundredth time that morning as my hair was curled and my lipstick was brushed on.
The rest of the day was everything I had ever dreamed it would be.