I’m sitting on a bench atop Observatory Hill. At this time two years ago, our wedding ceremony would have just begun. The sky was not as clear as today’s, almost devoid of clouds, haze dispersed by the winds. It is beautiful now, but cannot surpase the day I exchanged vows with my precious wife.
I stood in the rotunda and could feel again the boisterous crowd of friends and family, hear the soft harp, see the flowers and minature ficus around the platform. I looked down towards the steps, along the red carpet long gone, and saw my brides in white slowly ascending. In her eyes, the joy, the excitement, the love.
In the shadow of the Moreton Bay fig trees, I see the two of us leaning over each other as we pose for the official photographs. We can only hear his instructions and our whispered words of love. Now and then faithful friends lend a hand, but it is almost as if we are alone.
This park is quiet today, Monday is not for weddings. But in my mind it is Saturday, and I am not sitting here alone, for my beautiful, wonderful, perfect wife is always in my heart.