Dear friend,
Years ago, you told me I would be playing the bride in a
murder mystery play that you had written, and you handed me a frothy, white
dress to try on. You gave me a veil and a bouquet, and I wore a big, sparkly
ring on my finger.
One of my good friends played the groom, and my wedding
party was made up of my theatre friends. The tables were decked out every night
with purple flowers, beautiful tablecloths and glasses. There were party favors
at every plate. The food was delicious, and one of the greatest delights of my
life was eating wedding cake every night for three weekends in a row.
There were little dinner mints, those folded paper wedding
bells, and everything a girl could ask for at her wedding. It was perfect. I
bought you an orchid corsage to wear on the last night. A small way to thank
you, I know. But it was all I could think to do at the time.
Now, my own real-life wedding is fast approaching. My heart
is sad when I think that you, and others who have passed on, won’t be able to
physically be there with me. But I swear, you live on in my heart every day.
As I’ve been planning, I remember how you made my “first wedding” so
memorable, and I find myself not needing all the frills this time. I don’t know
if you knew this, because you were doing it all for the sake of the show, but
you gave me my big white wedding. Thank
you. And I know that this time around, you’ll still be there somewhere.
I’ll save a place for you.
Abigail
