16. Something New

On May 31, 2008,
as the saxophone played,
I held onto my dad’s arm
and walked, down a peony-lined runner, towards my forever.
I had something old,
a headpiece made of champagne and ivory seed pearls,
worn by my Nanny on her wedding day;
I had something borrowed,
the tiny, gold wedding band, that had been on my Mommom‘s own finger when she and my Poppop said their vows;
I had something blue,
a bracelet in honor of my Superhero;
and then I had Fancy shoes. Fancy new shoes.
And while they’ve now been worn,
and have scuffed soles
and loose threads,
and so many dance steps trailing behind them as distant memories,
they will always be my
something new.