Becoming a bride

My grandmother's wedding cake topper -- more than 60 years old -- sits on the mantelpiece. An ivory tablecloth to cover us -- our chuppah -- lies in wait in a box. There's new china in a new cabinet. A binder leaking swatches and tux rental papers clutters the desk.

How do you go from five months ago obsessing about Christmas and Hanukkah gifts to putting the finishing touches on a wedding?

You just do. You suddenly become a bride. And it's pink and white and lovely and soft -- and hard.

DJs and photographers and guests and venues and food all seem so far away now, just plans, potentials, and promises.

But there he is and there's that ring -- your promise in touchable relief. It's Thursday and you're wearing a ring. Isn't that something.