February 12, 2011
No sneakers today, I see. I’ve never seen you more beautiful. Your smile reminds me of our cups of coffee on bright early mornings when we are still drifting between the sweetest of dreams and startling wakefulness at our workstations. The short walk from the parking lot, where we shiver from the cool wind blowing our damp hair but find warmth in grasping our Seattle’s Best coffee cups (yours, a tall white mocha, and mine, a short latte), is bliss.
I still see the look of contentment on your face that lingers for all of fifteen minutes and slowly dissipates as we are lifted up eight floors until it totally disappears when you turn on your PC to reveal the plummeting service levels.
Today, you are not walking with me, and the comfort you are feeling on this cool morning comes not from a cup of coffee, but from the warmth of his hand. The look of contentment only grows as you walk down the aisle.
You are walking in high heels. All that nagging in the office about a make-over, and here you are, without your usual damp hair, but with soft curls falling on your shoulders. And you are actually wearing a dress. You think you’re beaming? I am. But not because you are not wearing sneakers today, not because of your high heels nor your soft, cascading curls (but remind me to give you a high five for that one). I am beaming because at the end of the day, without a care, you take off your heels and walk barefoot, laughing and smiling while posing for photos with your ninangs and ninongs, family and friends.
I see you, my dearest friend, in your wedding gown, baring yourself to the world and to the one man who will walk with you for a lifetime – whether you are in high heels, sneakers, or barefoot.
If that isn’t happiness, I don’t know what is.