Angela and I will be getting married at Thistle Hill in Fort Worth, Texas. Let me tell you a made-up story of how it came to pass:
Angela and I had reserved a place in Round Rock for our wedding. It wasn't really our number one option, but it was cheap and available. But a few weeks ago, while I was at my apartment in Waco, I had this extremely vivid dream. I was walking up a long dusty road on a cool fall day. The hills around me looked very familiar; something felt odd about it, though. As I continued, in the distance I could see a beautiful home in the distance. Right about that time, a horse-drawn carriage strolled by and I caught a glimpse of myself in its window. Wasn't I surprised to see that I was dressed in the oddest fashion. I'm not much for derbies (or "bowlers" as they call them in the motherland), but I had one on covering my nicely pomade'd hair. In addition, I had a briefcase. I'm not really sure what my purpose was, but I was inclined to follow that carriage toward the house, so I did.
As I followed, I watched the carriage pull into an open gate and stop next to this large home. Out stepped the most beautiful woman I had never seen up close. Her clothing didn't seem extraordinary; it was how she carried herself. It as if her poise and control commanded the sunlight to shine brighter on her. I've never been in the habit of hitting on Victorian-styled women, so I tried to play it cool as I approached--as cool as anyone can be in a derby, that is.
My spectacles were not the best, and so my nearsightedness verily prevented me from seeing the face of this woman clearly from more than 20 yards. She did not appear to notice me, but she did make her way back toward the gate to either tend to her flowers or fetch her mail. She gathered her mail, and turned back to gaze upon the house behind her. I continued walking, looking up at the house as well. She started talking in a voice that seemed eerily familiar to me: "'Tis a pity to have such a grand place as this, yet have no love or family to call it a home." I responded, not knowing quite what to say or how to speak 19th century English, "I heard what you said before the words left your mouth." She turned, and immediately I saw it was Angela. My eyes opened, and I was back in Waco.
On Sunday, July 18th, after visiting several other places that weekend, we parked in the lot of the final potential location of the weekend. Angela and I walked past the carriage house to the back door. The lovely ladies that were working started giving us a tour of this home. There was something about it that felt extra welcoming. At the end of the tour, we asked if we could walk around on the grounds a little bit. We walked to the end of the sidewalk, turned, and looked back on this house. Immediately I knew why this house felt right.
"Did I ever tell you--"
Angela cut me off, "Justin! I had the craziest dream a few weeks ago! This house was in the dream! And--" she pauses, looks away from the house back to me, "--and it was so sad, because I was alone in such a beautiful home. Then one day it all changed." She pauses and gives me a knowing smile, "Can we get married and start our life here?"
"I heard what you said before the words left your mouth."
LOVE that is alone with love
Makes solitudes of throngs;
Then why not songs of silences,--
Sweet silences of songs?
Parts need words: the perfect whole
Is silent as the dead;
When I offered you my soul
Heard you what I
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ReplyDeleteI'll try my comment again.
ReplyDeleteWouldn't it be neat if we could all dress in 1904 attire for the wedding. I know it would not be practical, but I still think it would be cool.
If only. I've been trying to convince Angela but to no avail.
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