Caroline and Kyler

She was my all
all for me
she was my home
in desert or sea
there with her
whatever it be
she was my home
home you see.
— Atticus

I always see weddings as a continuous story. It begins before I arrive and it continues long after I leave. My story gets mixed up in there for a bit, and those vignette's of love and laughter, whispers and smiles, all seep their way into my consciousness. So when I think back, I remember how my children traveled with me. That we drove late into the night, the sun setting behind the desert mountains as we found our way to our small valley cabin. How my husband walked with them in tow, across the small street, in the small town, so I could feed my baby.

I remember how Caroline cried when her mother lifted her flower crown onto her head, how she read the letter that Kyler wrote her, and hid into her dad as he walked her down the aisle. I remember Kyler's sister fixing his hair, his calmness, how he looked at Caroline and how she leaned into him. I'll always remember how this wedding made me see sunshine and happiness, that it felt burnt yellow and shadow blue.