Sophia
My mother's wedding day arrived with perfect weather, the kind of clear, golden September afternoon that felt almost suspiciously ideal after months of planning around every possible contingency.
"Stop fussing with my veil," she said, laughing, swatting my hands away as I adjusted it for the third time in the small dressing room at the venue, a converted barn out past the edge of the city that Daniel had fallen in love with the moment he saw the wildflower field behind it. "You're more nervous than I am."
"I just want everything perfect for you." I stepped back, taking her in properly, her dress simple and elegant, ivory instead of white, her hair pulled back the same way it had been in that old courthouse photo, though everything else about this moment felt entirely, gloriously
