Stephanie. Her name was Stephanie, he remembered her name, as he walked from the parking lot to the church. He was impressed with the beauty of the day. It was cool, and yet the sun was bright, which took away some of the awkwardness of going to church after so many years. He was stopped in his tracks though, when he found a note on the front door.
“Mass will be held today, outside – behind the building.” As he walked around the building, he swallowed hard, and was hoping no one would really speak to him. People smiled and said hello as he made his way nervously to a plastic chair, way in the back, of course.
It was a good service, and he liked the priest. The short sermon (he always did like the shorter messages) was entitled, “Being Love in a World of Hate”. It was a message of such depth, and beauty that he was dumbfounded really.
And then he saw her. Was that her up there, on the right? He couldn’t be sure, but if it was her she was still amazingly beautiful. He could only see the back of her head, but there was that long flowing, dark red hair that Stephanie used to have.
His heart began to race, would she remember him? He was certain she never knew how he felt, how he cared for her, and back then he even wanted her opinion on the poetry he wrote in those days. Would she remember the poetry?
After the service he tried to make a beeline out of there, but the processional was now in the back, and hundreds of people all tried to leave it once. Was it always like this?
Just as he was about to shake hands with the priest, Father Tom, he heard her voice, “Dan??……….Dan Thompson?”…….He knew for sure now it was her……. “Stephanie??” It was all he could manage to say, as he turned around.
But inwardly all he could think of was, “Oh God……she’s so beautiful.”
Writing and Image Copyright 2017, Blue Skies in the Morning