Last week I ran late, twice. Rush-rush-rushing to bundle the boys and all of their assorted paraphernalia into the car. Off we trundled down the road, thankful to have finally jolted myself into action. On both occasions, it was the same set of red lights when I stole a second to breathe. Each time it was a glance at my left hand that prompted me to turn the car around and double back home. Not an easy assignment from the position I had landed in the traffic either. But some things are worth running even later for.
I realised on the second day I was running late, just how important two small, gold, rings, are to me. I've never felt quite so attached to them as I do right now. I'm not a bling kinda girl. Appreciate the fine stuff and love admiring jewels on others, but personally, I am content with a few treasured gems. However, I was taken back by my overwhelming desire to feel those rings on my finger. To be with me throughout the day ahead. Maybe after all Scott and I have experienced of late, these golden bands we exchanged some seven and a half years ago are more than a representation of our union. Instead, a symbol of our continuing devotion to one another... and that is what really matters to me at this moment in time.
We will never make hand models, this is a certainty. But I love these photos. Because despite the recollection of being a giggling pile of nerves and feeling frozen stiff throughout the entire ceremony, I have few memories of that moment. And these, capture it for me. Beautifully.