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Prom night
In a flurry of swirling fabrics, hairspray mist, an iridescent dusting of glimmer powder, my second granddaughter , like Cinderella, was off to the ball. Her senior prom.
Rochelle is tall, willowy, with red hair tumbling down her back, draped ina strapless red gown with embroidered bodice and pouffy gathered skirt: a real ball gown straight out of yesterday's fashion runways. That was just the beginning.
A friend and professional photographer was on hand to document the transformation from high school kid to elegant young lady, capturing hundreds of facial expressions in the "getting ready" process before capturing the soft nuances of the moment when her boyfriend first looked at her in awe.
Of course there are the traditional family pictures, candid and posed. But there are also the "Vogue" shots of Rochelle, standing in a field of grass, shyly looking down, or hand raised in a soft wave, or a demure look over her shoulder...
Her boyfriend's dad hired a limo for them and two other couples; the young man arrived in style, first meeting dad, mom and assorted family like me, before the "grand entrance" was made.
It was a "whoa" moment; the wrist corsage was slipped on her wrist, with the shy smiles of the self-conscious, and then more photos in the lush outdoor setting behind her home.
The young man will be off to college 200 miles away come September, and Rochelle join her sister at college in my town, just around the corner from me, come September.
As the limousine drove, Rochelle gave us the "princess wave" from the window, smiling, moving into the next phase of her life.
Her mom and I just watched, wondering where time had gone.
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