Tag Archives: summerwedding

Three Little Dresses / Three Little Girls

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They’re images of brides whom I know nothing about. The dresses all match the shorter style which is all the hotness right now.

Each represents a type, a common theme.  The beauty queen, the country girl, and the chaste naive.  Some say the dress makes the girl, others say the dress finds the girl. I don’t know what to say, but I wish I knew stories of each of them.

“They’re just models” you say. “There is no story.” But there is I say, “there always is a story.” With beauty queen, why cover the right eye? Sure it could have been a photo shoot decision, but what if the makeup didn’t quite hide the circles, was she up all night partying? Was she up all night studying, and modeling is how she pays for college? I don’t know.

Take country girl.  Would anyone be surprised to find out that she doesn’t where heels that much?  The stance is awkward to say the least, but she may actually really be uncomfortable in those shoes.  The dark eyeshadow makes her all dark and twisty, which further messes with the genre we’re going with here, why a dark and twisty country girl?  Maybe she really is, so the shot was adjusted to fit her personality.

Finally, naive chaste girl.  This wedding dress scares me.  Why the baby blue bow? It feels like a young child is getting sent off to the wolves.  Her eyes are so doughy as to question if she even understands what a marriage is, let alone a lifetime.  The flapper esque dress with the antiqued room, sets the stage for a vintage style wedding, but the girls eyes really bring into question, if she really should get sent off with this groom.  Is that panic? Her fingers grasping hold of the bouquet and skirt to hold on to herself?  Possibly her personality is showing through, and she simply is concentrating that hard on the camera.  In all cases we’ll never know, but the questions will always remain.

Who were these girls, and what were their stories?

Image Credit: weddingomania.com

~Morgan Werhen 2018.

Alone In The Park

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I was sitting on the park bench that fine day enjoying the scenery, sounds, and all the green surrounding me.
The wind was breathtakingly light, the sun reflected off the trees, though, in a way it did with a surreal quality not found in photos, once caught remembered forever.
The birds nearby suddenly jumpy flapped their wings and flew off into the cloudless sky to find their nest, or food or simply enjoy that they could fly into the blue sky for no other reason than to enjoy their day.
That was when I heard them, slightly down the path a couple was walking up the road directly toward me.
Clueless to anything else around, their voices seemed caught up in each other, I couldn’t make out their words, but I could feel them float about as they traveled in and around my field of sound.
She was excited, and the red from her heels radiated around the park like light through a tunnel.  He was lost in her, I could see the way he stared at her with a longing gaze, everything she said intoxicating. Her smile never left as she held his hand and talked happily about sundry things going on in their life.
I felt like a young boy watching a guilty pleasure as this adoring couple slowly made their way toward me, oblivious to the fact that though they thought they were alone, their love for each shown like the sun in and around them. I could hear her shoes click with every step, his voice deep to her lighter tones.
Before a small clearing between the trees he stopped walking and I heard him smile, I could see her face light up as he pulled her toward him. She grasped a hold of his arm and In that the beauty of the moment eclipsed the park around them as the girl in the beautiful blue dress silently kissed her man.
At the end, she slowly pulled away, her face alight in happiness, and they walked back the way they came from, hands again intertwined, their love and life all ahead of them.
I stood to go at that point, realizing that I was again alone, their love surrounding me like the breeze spinning around on that park bench.
I walked home that day with a smile on my face and a slightly lighter step, excited for the couple whose love I had a chance to share in..
Was it a chance meeting or just that I happened to be there? The answer will never be known, but I know for me because of them I was reminded of the beauty in this world, and to ever be thankful for the small things as they make our life more beautiful.
Huge thanks to @ssoutherlandphotography for this lovely photo.

Who Is This Person Staring Back at Me?

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My eyes opened suddenly, a rush of emotions and panic flooding my mind.  “Who am I” I thought.  “Where am I?” Laying on the bed I turned my head to attempt to look at my surroundings.  The room was dark, it smelled slightly musty but I smelled a floral scent mixed in with slightly damp, and cold feelings.  I moved my arms and legs, they felt different, like they haven’t been moved in while, but they all responded as if everything was fine.  I sat up, but felt a little stiff and slow.  There were a couple of windows in the room, they seemed large, but with hardly any light in the room I was struggling to see what or where I was.
Where was I? I felt calm, the panic was replaced by a feeling of excitement, but I didn’t know why?  I remembered going to bed at some point wearing my yellow sun dress, with a white hairpiece holding back my hair..  I remembered running in the grass with my friends as we would ride our bikes around a neighborhood?  The thoughts and memories started to flood in.  I was 12.  It was summer. The light wind would play with my brunette bob and blow it around my face, always forcing me to wrap the stray strands behind my right ear.  My mom always getting after me about picking up my dolls. My white strappy sandals left in the middle of room.
The light was starting to peak into the windows around the heavy blinds. I decided to try to stand up.  It went fine but I was surprised to feel hair falling at my back.  I habitually moved my hand to place it behind my ear. What? It cascades down my back? I grabbed hold of it. It was full of ‘body?’ why did I know that term? It smelled floral, like lilacs in the summer just before their peak. “Why is my hair so long?” I kept walking toward the window, slightly shocked that walking in a sundress would feel so constricting. Still reeling from these mixture of sensations that felt both new and familiar at the same time.
His name was Jordan. I remember a Jordan. That day, “why do I remember that day?” the sun was bright, shining through the small oak in our yard causing the shadows to dance on the house.  He lived across the street from us, though I remember it was a street where cars went back an forth. I remember standing at the curb and we were yelling back and forth about something. He was in a light blue t-shirt with muddy shorts.  His ‘race’ bike with the orange handle grips sitting next to him tossed on the ground, the kickstand shoving up a mound of grass and dirt next to it. “You have to come over today!” He was yelling.  “I can’t!” I yelled back.  The sun was hot, I could see he was sweating a little, his two front teeth gleaming as he moved his mouth.  “Why couldn’t I come over?” I asked my self?
Whoa!! I almost tripped on something on the floor. “What is that?” I felt something sliding next to me. The excitement also seemed to make me breathe harder.  Something is restricting my chest? “What??” I stop. “Just stand here, calm down” I think, that decision causes me to start relaxing a bit.  I was almost to the windows, for some reason it felt like opening the shade would allow me to understand why nothing makes sense.  I start to explore who or “what” I am. I immediately realize that I must be a woman, no longer 12, long long past. I feel below my waist and my breath heaves in a panic, but an excited twirl of happiness.  My pajamas seem to not be pajamas. I take both hands, and lean down at the waist. and it seems I have a dress on with a skirt full of luxuriant “where did that word come from” ruffles.  They cascade and follow my body well past my legs and around the floor.  This new body of mine is so confusing, but it feels like “me.”
Jordan kept yelling but the cars were too loud, the wind seemed to pick up and I remember the day feeling darker. I instinctively remember fixing my hair behind my ear, but there was a sound, a loud screeching sound.  Everything slows down in that moment, but I remember turning my head toward the noise.
I steadied myself in the room, the sun continued to push more of it’s yellow light through the windows. It was time to finish this slow walk and see where I was. Moving toward the windows again, taking daintier steps, I heard my dress swish and swirl as my legs bumped against the skirt. At the windows I could see two of them had blinds, the type I remember were in my room, wide wood slats that would pivot to hide the light, forcing streams to pour in at the edges. However, the middle window was different. It seemed to hold something smooth, or attached to the window. There was a little light, but it was forced only at the square edges of the window. The beams shot out like a line, almost a sign with no backlighting for the words that would be seen if the light could shine through.  I reached the wall, I felt what appeared to be cold brick, but the warmth from the other side was apparent. I moved my hand along the surface of the wall where the light could penetrate enough for my eyes to see my hand.  Whoa, again, my heart quickened! Fingers so long, rounded nails, perfectly manicured with a light pink detail. The sun danced off my nails as they shimmered. Then it caught my eye. I gasped! On my finger sat a ring with a diamond.
The sound was deafening! The wreck caused one vehicle start coming my way. I sat there frozen as a hunk of steel was rolling toward the curb, I could see the panic in the drivers eyes, mouth wide, words streaming out but I couldn’t hear. I did hear something, or wait, someone screaming. “Judith!!! Judith run! RUN!” It was Jordan.  He was screaming to run, but where? I turned away from the driver barreling toward me and tried to move my legs.  It was like they were filled with lead, like a dream where I was running out of a classroom realizing I forgot to put on pants, but I couldn’t move.  “I’m coming!” He yelled, I couldn’t see him, but his voice kept getting closer. I tried desperately to run but my legs were stuck, the car was still screeching towards me, and now I could smell burning rubber and smoke.
Something hit me. I remember that. But, it hit me from the side. Arms wrapped around me and I was “tackled?” I remember falling, fast, smacking my head, but there was a rush behind me, as dirt and grass and flying debris hit me and Jordan? “Jordan!” “Jordan tackled me and shoved me away!”
I sat there desperately trying to remember more.  I remember my room, noises, people surrounding me, I remember being carried, I remember hearing a siren.  I remember hearing words about Jordan, that he wasn’t answering, they were panicked. I remember closing my eyes. Nothing after that.
That foreign hand, with the large cut diamond moved over to pull up the blind. “It’s time to meet me” I think, “Judith is my name I believe, who is Judith and why does she have a ring on her hand?” I pulled up the blind and light streamed in, I quickly walked across the middle window and pulled up the other blind. The light instantly filled the room and my eyes blinked while attempting to adjust. There definitely was something on the center mirror, it appeared to be writing. I blinked again and gasped as I saw this room for the first time. Though, it felt familiar in a way, like I’ve been here before.
The bed I was in stood alone, but there was a framed photo of Jordan an I by the nightstand, I was in the yellow sundress, and he was just smiling at me. The sheets were white, but there were yellow notes posted everywhere. I couldn’t read them, but they had an order, and appeared slightly tattered, or well used. Turning toward the center window I saw what was pasted in the window. There attached somewhat permanently was a giant letter starting with the words  “Your name is Judith Winters, on July 24th 13 years ago you hit your head but you were saved from death my Jordan Reetherin. You need to read the letter by the mirror next to you to catch up on what has happened to you so you can move forward with your life from this morning on.
The feelings of panic started again, “I couldn’t remember anything since that accident! I’m standing here a woman and I have to re learn who I am.  I have a ring.” I turned toward the mirror and at that point is the first ( or thousandth ) time I met me.  I had long brunette hair, floating past my shoulders, I was wearing makeup, light pink lipstick and earrings adorned my ears. I was thin, but not gaunt, I had the body of a woman but only memories of a child. The person staring back at me was familiar with her body, but the mind was trying to wrap that fact with missing memories.  Who is this person staring back at me? The dress was gorgeous, my shoulder blades heaved in anticipation and fear as I removed the envelope from the far left of the mirror.  I opened the flap and removed the new letter, folded three times. It was long, very detailed, and hand written in a mans handwriting.
Dear Judith,
This is Jordan.  I love you, and today is our Wedding Day.
Image Credit: gabbytaangeles.tumblr.com

The Song Remembers

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There is a place in everyone’s heart that doesn’t seem to have a switch with a mappable location.
It snuggles in, hidden from your sight, even hidden from your life, but makes itself aware in small subtle ways over the course of our lives.
To call it a switch is unkind really, as to actually turn it on is transformative.  The change takes place in your entire being, your heart beats faster, hands seem to be shaky, legs less sure.  The mind however, no words can describe the changes there.  Once the change happens, the mind becomes euphoric, or depressingly sad. The delicious meal that was causing so much happiness suddenly turns to gruel in the mouth. Of course, the opposite is also true.  The tears falling with no possible end, may suddenly change to divine joy in which for every tear the sun shines brighter, and even the rain turns into a pitter and patter of diamonds dropping out of the sky.
I’m talking of course about the power of music, a sound, a smell and its ability to conjure up memories from a far off time.  The switch of course is that single moment when you were doing one thing, in fact, you were living your life as if nothing had ever happened. You were effectively doing things any human would do, and then out of nowhere something changes. Your ear hears a sound, you smell a meal, a flower, even a smell that means nothing to anyone else near you.
This single moment changes everything.
The second your mind hears said audible note, or notes, you’re transformed. If the memory is a good one, it feels like being wrapped in a soft blanket on a cold day, or hugging a long lost friend for a long period of time without the worry of needing to let go.  If it is a reminder of a loss, then time seems to stop, you feel your body twist backwards through the tunnel of sadness, and your entire being is as emotionally distraught as if the event just happened again.
Sometimes these memories are so powerful, the person you were before the memory, and the person you become after are two completely different versions.  Some people have regressed so far as if they either lost 30 years and appear as a young boy or girl.  Others mature to the point of “walking out of a there a new woman.” There is simply the possibility that the memory will bring with it joyous thoughts which float around the mind, change the eyes, and mouth for a small minute and disappear as if they never floated back.  Others will roar back and take over, possibly never leaving and effectively changing the individual for the rest of their living life.
How can it be that one sound, one song, or noise, or smell or feel is so powerful?
I don’t know, but  Trisha Yearwood did in  “The song remembers when,” and everyone who listens to that song can place themselves in a similar situation where during one second everything was perfect, and suddenly without notice, everything changed.
Image Credit: pinterest.com

Why Do We All Want to Be Beautiful?

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The trouble with beauty, we all want it, desire it, it envelops us like a breeze splashing our hair around us.
The need never goes away, the desire never fades.
To feel beautiful is the true beauty, just me as I am. When we achieve that belief then no matter what we do or wear, everyone else desires the beauty we’ve so easily and effortlessly found for ourselves.
How do you achieve your inner beauty?
Image Credit: vi-vi.com

Everything Will be Different After Today

Dirty diapers changed, potty training, dressing, school, all the lunches made, all the talks about friends, teachers, boys, drama, drama.
The crying, the yelling, the laundry!
I’ve dressed her, picked her up and cleaned her booboos.  I taught her how and when to shave her legs,
put on her first bra, I taught her about what her period. I was there when she had her first boyfriend. I cried with her when he broke her heart. I cried and hugged when she was happy, I laughed and cried and hugged her when she was sad. She’s been the first child I see in the morning and the last one I see at night.  She’s my first born, my eldest baby. She’s my daughter and I’m her momma.
But tonight I’m letting her go.  Tonight I’m relegated from mom, to mother of the bride, a title I now mostly share with a different woman across the room.  I bought her this lace, each fitting, and refitting, the veil, her beautiful hair.  I bought it all for her today so I could say goodbye and give her away.
“Momma, can you help button me up?” she asks?  I button each tiny loop as it works toward her beautiful hair. The bodice fits her body as if it was born for her this day.  The skirt billows from her waste tapering her as it cascades on the floor.
My baby is off to see her love today. She’s almost ready, my sweet honey.  “I love you” I say, and we both stare at each other realizing that everything will be different after today.