Grateful for memories of a bride-to-be

The hair was perfectly cut and coloured.
The skin was soft, dewy and well-rested after six months of facials.
The fingernails and toenails were freshly manicured and painted a soft pink.
The waistline was slender; the limbs toned and trim.
The hands had arranged the flowers in the church.
The eyes had not rested until the cake was decorated just so (at home, with fresh-cut flowers, mind you!)
The legs had run hither and yon, delivering bonbonniere and list upon list to the reception centre.
The best friend had stuck through thick and thin, catastrophe and triumph, providing equal helpings of giggles and support.
The dress hung waiting, whispering behind it's white cover, the tiny beaded crystals and embroidery desperate to be worn.
The veil knew that it's moment was coming.
The brain knew that everything that could be done, had been done.
The brain also knew that excitement would prevent proper sleep.
The heart yearned for the morning, when the longed-for day would unfold.
The weather promised to be cold, crisp and sunny.
The groom promised to be at the church.
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.
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He was.
Six years ago tonight, I was a bride-to-be.
I was so grateful at the time to feel such joy, anticipating my wedding day.
I am so grateful now, knowing what a wonderful day it was.
And I am especially grateful for tomorrow, which I will spend with the wonderful boy who waited at the altar for me.