This has nothing to do with my journalism career.
My big in my sorority got married last night and I cried.
The preacher took turns making the bride and groom look at the others’ hands, after they took the palms up hands into their own he exclaimed what those hands will soon mean to the couple.
“These are the hands, James, that will comfort you, hold you and tell you we’re having a baby.”
“These are the hands, Stacy, that will care for you, wrinkle in time with you and warm you.”
That was when I lost it.
I have never thought of myself as much of a crier, but that was beautiful.
The rest of the evening was much better, at least my eyes were dry.
We ate, we drank (fruit punch to be specific) and we danced the night away. But my favorite part of the evening would have to be the cake. It was lemon and it was good.
Chocolate swirls for a design over the butter cream frosting and lemon cake that was perfectly moist. I ate two slices.
Weddings are wonderful, two people joining together, pledging their lives for… well for forever. Man, I need a date.