So, there I was — in the bridal suite all by myself. The bridesmaids, groomsmen and parents were in place for the ceremony. I could hear the faint melody of the string trio. And in comparison to the hub-bub of a few moments earlier, I was left to my own meditation.
I thought of Mr. Cookie’s and my journey together: the brief meeting at our friend’s wedding, the many sleepless nights on the phone, the bed and breakfast at Thanksgiving, the flight at Christmas in a blizzard to be home with Mr. Cookie, quitting my job in Washington D.C., hiking the Grand-Canyon together, Mr. Cookie’s proposal under the Eiffel Tower in Paris, and now our wedding day.
I turned to the mirror and took a look at myself, dressed as a bride with a veil on my head and bouquet in hand. There are so many narratives about this moment – none of which were real to me. But what was real was serenity. That even though the months and weeks leading to this moment were so gosh-darn stressful, what mattered now was being present. And never in my life had I felt luckier.
My dad peered into the bridal suite and said, “It’s time.” With a quick nod and a tear, I took my father’s arm…

…and walked toward my best friend.

I was so excited to see Mr. Cookie that my walk down the aisle felt more like the 100 yard dash. A bridal sprint, if you will. Ladies, have someone count out a slow step for you right before you walk. I realized half way down the aisle that this moment was 30 seconds max., and that I might want to slow it down.
My walk down the aisle was a good 300 feet. Perfect length for a long memorable walk. But it was only at this point, as we approached the aisle runner, that I could really see Mr. Cookie, lip quivering and tears streaming down his face. I told him many times that my whole goal of him not seeing my dress and each other before the wedding was to charge this moment. Mission accomplished.

According to my mother, seen here with tears as well, there would not be a dry eye in the congregation for the rest of the ceremony.

Michele and Mark, really, you’ve got mad photography skills. Michele captured several A-M-A-Z-I-N-G shots of the aisle runner, but this one is in my top two favorites.
Although our ceremony didn’t include a traditional giving away of the bride, I knew it was important for my dad to walk me down the aisle. Before I took Mr. Cookie’s hand, I gave my dad a hug and thanked him. Traditional as all heck, but it was a very special moment between my dad and me.
So, there we were. Mr. Cookie and I holding hands, overlooking the majesty of the mountains, and getting ourselves hitched.
It was the perfect weather. Oh, I forgot to mention that in the morning there were light sprinkles. Because of the morning shower, I was so petrified that it would rain during our ceremony, I looked outside every fifteen minutes to see if any storm clouds were moving in. Instead of storm clouds, I found these incredibly picturesque clouds and beaming light. I couldn’t have asked for better weather.
After a quick introduction by our pastor, my MOH read SONNET LXIX by Pablo Neruda. Please indulge me with a stroll down memory lane by re-posting the poem.
Maybe nothingness is to be without your presence,
without you moving, slicing the noon
like a blue flower, without you walking
later through the fog and the cobbles,
without the light you carry in your hand,
golden, which maybe others will not see,
which maybe no one knew was growing
like the red beginnings of a rose.
In short, without your presence: without your coming
suddenly, inciting, to know my life,
gust of a rosebush, wheat of wind:
since then I am because you are,
since then you are, I am, we are,
and through love I will be, you will be, we’ll be.
Two days before the ceremony we decided to throw in a handbinding ceremony. We had been taking about this with our pastor for months, but never solidified until the rehearsal.

We asked each parent to be a part of this tradition, by laying red ribbon on our hands for the binding.

One quick pull…
…and Mr. Cookie and I tied the knot. As we were standing there holding our knot our pastor said,” And so the binding is made. The knots of this binding are not formed by these cords but instead by your vows. Either of you may drop the cords, for, as always, you hold in your own hands the making or breaking of this union.”
Next up: The Cookies proclaim their vows to one another.
All photos taken by the fantastic team at IN Photography.
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