This is about my Kayla. That’s what I call her. She’s not just a second-shooter, or an assistant. Not just a distant cousin-once-removed through marriage, not just an acquaintance through the years. It’s hard to explain. She’s like family. I love her dearly and want the best of blessings for her. It’s difficult to qualify what it’s like to have the privilege of knowing her, of calling her a friend. So I just call her ‘my Kayla.’
I had a feeling this day would come, eventually. I don’t think I ever verbalized it to her, but I had a feeling from the start of our conversation about this Brian whom Kayla had told me she met at work. There was just a sparkle to her smile, a grin that couldn’t help but escape whenever she said his name. She spoke highly of him, and I would smile and ask her if he was good to her. She would beam and I didn’t even have to wait for an answer. It was written all over her twinkling eyes. I would text her, when wintertime came and we had fewer shoots together. Texts that were ‘just checking in, what’s up, how’s work, let’s meet for lunch’ kind of texts. We have to stay in touch in spurts through the winter, but she’s never far from my mind. And then, one day it wasn’t just words and catching up. She sent a photo. Just one photo, that’s all. And it was worth even more than a thousand words. I may have cried when I saw a picture of ‘that guy she met at work’, down on one knee asking Kayla to be his wife. And the very best part was the look on her face.
We had their engagement session recently, where I got to see that Brian is just right. You meet him and can’t help but see that it’s going to work. He’s calm and charming and tall and strong, where Kayla is bubbly and sweet and tiny and cute.
I couldn’t be happier for the two of you, and I can’t wait for that backyard wedding in September. I love you dearly.