Renewed Views

Pitch it, I tell Windy, silent that my nieces once played in her bridesmaid choice, length lopped.

I hunt for pictures but find Windy's "Dear Girls" letter, a wedding what's what, sometimes by the hour:

4:30, Saturday: Guess what? We are going to dress at the church. It is fun that way and everyone looks fresh and "just pressed!"

And the swatch -- sent so shoes would match.


Together, more powerful than Kodak.

I am back ... at the Carolina Inn, twenty-three, grown-up and little all at once, awe-struck. My friend, married. The first.