Tomorrow my sister will be tying the knot. She’s getting hitched to the love of her life.
Tomorrow we’ll be all a fluster, getting our hair done, applying enough makeup to see us through all the many snaps that will be captured. And drinking pink Champagne whilst we work out just how slow we should walk down the aisle.
Tomorrow we’ll be donning petticoats and tucking tissues into our bras, just in case the moment overtakes us and our tear ducts catch us off guard.
Tonight is my Sisters last day as a Palmer, tomorrow she takes on another name, another family; she becomes a wife.
And it’s this evening spent with Miss Palmer, accompanying her as she plucks her eyebrows and driving her to get her eyelashes done that I realise how grown up and ready she really is. Despite what everyone says and what society so obviously thinks.
I’m proud of her, of how much she’s achieved and overcome this year. And how very calm she is on the eve of becoming a Mrs.
And although it’s been incredibly hard facing the fact that my younger sister has found love before me and that she has a little family all of her own; tomorrow isn’t about me. My time will come.
Tomorrow my Sister is getting married. It’s momentous, it’s real and it’s permanent. And it couldn’t be more exciting.