This was a tough one. I attempted writing my version to Maya’s and my love story specifically for our wedding website. A few people provided me with similar feedback. “This doesn’t sound like you, Cecilia. You’re a romantic. Don’t write facts. Write from your heart.”
They were right. I tried and tried again. I marinated my thoughts. Delved into my feelings. Draft after draft. It was on Thanksgiving Day that I composed the following version, to be featured on our wedding website.
It was a June wedding weekend in 2016 hosted in the Adirondacks in New York when my five senses jolted to life.
While lounging on the dock protruding the shoreline of the lake, I caught sight of a figure prancing down the hill in a floral, summer dress. With a relaxed grin on her face, her earthy, spirited demeanor struck me as I realized she was coming toward me. With an immediate sense of longing, I wanted our worlds to collide.
As confident as a captain steers its boat’s course, she stuck out her hand, the grin growing more broadly. The olive skin, pointed slender fingers with dust-free nails, enveloped mine for the first time. Even before knowing her name, I was brought home. A place I wish to remain.
As though we were old friends, tried and true, we talked. We shared stories. We prattled about our ideologies. With neither of us wearing our medical devices, we slipped into the comfortable physical noises of our hands. Words danced off our fingers, filling our connection with blazes of colors, introducing each other’s ways of being.
Amidst our exchange, when the hors d’oeuvres passed through the throng of guests, she guided my attention to the delicacies. She wanted the delights of catered bites to please my tongue’s palette. Through such a gesture, I sensed her to be one who thinks of others and wishes for all to enjoy present blessings.
Before we returned to our respective residencies after the wedding weekend, she placed either arm around my torso, smoothing her hands flat across either shoulder blade. It was then that I stamped her scent into my memory. Not knowing if there would be another chance to see her again, I savored the embrace.
It was that fateful summer when my life became entwined with the senses of my future wife.