Once upon a time . . . on this day a long, long time ago.
It was a warm November afternoon.
The Princess for a day, just three weeks shy of her twentieth birthday. A child you might say. Living in the moment.
They arrived at Saint Thomas as the clock struck twelve. It was misty. She donned a juliet cap.
She tried a myriad of gowns, ultimately choosing the very first one.
She still has that dress.
Her Prince, barely twenty years old. Distinguished in the charcoal grey suit. Innocent of what the future may hold.
Memories of that day are faint. The music was classical. No crooning of "You Light Up My Life" to disgrace this special day. The pianist thanked them for that.
The "Lord's Prayer" would be played on the violin. She remembered being grateful they had thought of that.
No candles were lit. It was afternoon and it would be so painful to nervously stare as an arching candelabra is meticulously illuminated.
The red rosebuds unfolded thereby clashing with the burgundy dresses, but no one noticed.
The ceremony was atypical Catholic - short, but sweet. A taste of cake and punch. Then amidst a shower of rice they disappeared from sight in the little gray Celica headed north.
Was that really thirty years ago? Three decades and sometimes it seems like only yesterday. Her adoring parents, alive and well and their amazing children, only a possibility.
There are no photos here to capture this milestone. Only those in our memories.
It may have seemed like any warm day in November, but it was the beginning of my very own fairy tale.
We should all be so lucky.
