Now 8 years later we have a home, a yard, some gray hair, "history" marks, and more importantly a family with two beautiful daughters.
Today I packed up my satin wedding dress with tiny pearl beads covering the bodice and trailing down the train, into a very small garment bag. It's perfectly pressed and awaiting it's trip. Tears streamed down my face as I folded tissue paper in the creases and wrapped the tiara in white tissue. So many memories, so long ago. Tears for the young love that we had, and tears for the future. Tears for the young, beautiful woman that I miss so much who will be wearing it this summer. Happy tears and sad tears. I wipe them away, not because I want to forget or because I'm scared to show them but for fear they may mark the satin dress. I didn't think I was attached to my dress but I come to realize I'm attached to the sights the dress has seen and where it will go. So as I so carefully fold, I pray for it's new bride and groom.
It's packed now, not to tight, but with a few tears sent along.
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