Decade Plus Two

The wedding anniversary brought about
the watching of the twelve year-old video
recorded from the back of the church
by the uncle trying to hide behind the fake ferns
while trying to capture the essence of the
event on this most important of days.
The tape was worn down now, and the colors
had turned orange over time.
He saw people in the crowd he didn't
remember attending,
hugs being given he didnt
remember receiving.
But what bothered him most was
the person standing in front of the sanctuary
dressed in black and white,
no more than a few years into adulthood,
behaving as if this day's routine
was as normal as brushing one's teeth or
finding a matching pair of socks in the basket of laundry.
Who was that man?
Why didn't he show any sign of emotion?
No tears shed,
no longing embraces.
Just simple indifference on this last day of winter.
And the beautiful woman standing beside him,
holding desparately onto his hand
with white knuckles showing.
Did she know that,
on her wedding day,
she was marrying a corpse?