Just before six a.m. on a Saturday morning, I woke up to a strange voice, or was it a thought, in my head. A woman asked “What is it like on this my wedding day?” Automatically, I glanced toward the window and saw the sun peaking in on a bright Vermont day in January.
Where had that thought come from? I was married for over eleven years and my husband was beside me. He and our four children were still asleep. It was that weird type of experience you wish to quickly forget, but that refuses to fade from your thoughts completely.
To distract myself, I considered our plans for the day. We would take a 25-minute ride north to St. Johnsbury to have lunch at a quaint Victorian inn. Their restaurant prepared custom orders for your meals. My husband and I had enjoyed a surprisingly pleasant lunch there last summer.
Our family of six arrived in St. Johnsbury before noon to find that the Inn was closed for the season. The town wasn’t noted for a lot of restaurants. Since everyone was hungry, we drove around and found one that was open. As we pulled into the parking lot around noon, I saw her entering the building. Dressed in a white gown with her veil trailing across her shoulders in the wind, was a bride. Not just any bride.
I can not prove it, but I’m almost positive I heard this young lady’s first thoughts on her wedding day.