The Show

I have a best friend. She is a showstopper. She enters the room and the scene changes. Curtains rise. The orchestra is cued.

Lauren is here.

I never minded that she always stole the show. She wouldn't steal the spotlight on purpose, but she doesn't shirk it either.

We met when we were fourteen, and I can't describe our unlikely pairing. Perfect foils. Australian amazon teeniebopper meets American munchkin goodie two shoes. She charged into every romantic scene, black bra and Doc Martens. I held back like a stagehand, overalls and sneakers.

But she was next to me in every green room, dragging me to every cast party, sharing her light, ravishing everyone with her love.

Sometimes she dated guys who would try to outstage her. Who didn't understand her theatrics.

It always ended with a poor review.

So when I heard she had met Peter, with whom she found life to be so "peaceful," I sensed that this was a show with promise of a long run.

I was absolutely desperate to be in the audience for their big day, but tickets for me were simply an impossibility.

But she sent me the Playbill, and after scanning it several dozen times, I am confident it was a beautiful expression of love, more than symbolic rendering of their union, an experience that transcended this world.

My best friend's wedding. I know that God was in the audience - they say He clapped the loudest.