Weddings

Today, driving home from getting my hair done, I had two distinct memories, both of which involved the same Halloween costume my best friend, Phyllis, and I lovingly hand-made; a diminutive wedding dress with blushing veil, both embellished with little seed pearls and tulle, and hand sewn together over coffee.

I could see my daughter, Chelsea, the year she wore it, her tiny shape invoking the promise of the woman she would too soon become.  She looked like a little princess bride, prancing around completely delighted to be decked out like all the princess brides in the fairy tale books tossed about her bedroom.  She looked like a miniature woman.

Tavia, my little chubster-just a toddler- wore it next.  I have a photograph of her in that dress that is wholly unnecessary because that image is burned into my memory.  She was mad, as she often was, and she had been crying.  Her pudgy little hand was drawn up to her face, palm side out, and her cheeks had gone flush as they often did when she was frustrated or upset. Her blonde curls wound about the headpiece.  It was a typical photography of a typical moment, and I love it dearly.

In the next two months, I will see both my little girls get married.

I know I'll still be seeing them as I saw them so many years ago.

I know that's how I'll always see them.