Wedding Blog

I hesitated before blogging this morning. My hubby and I just returned from a very fantastic 7-ish days in Puerto Rico (wonderfully cool place) to clingy animals and a house… well, let’s put it this way: the last thing we did before we left was get married in it, so in the interests of picture perfection (okay, so we wouldn’t look like total slobs), we hid crap in every available crap-hiding space. Coming home is like being in a really f’d up scavenger hunt.

I’m biting the bullet and changing my name today, spending time away from my new husband for the first time in weeks, AND in a series of super fun government office waiting rooms. Blegh. (But at least I’ll have the second Twilight novel to keep me company. I caved while on the beach and read the first one, and now I’m hooked.)

I have misplaced the cord for my camera (in the aforementioned crap-hiding extravaganza), so I can’t show you honeymoon pics, and I don’t have any wedding pics yet.

But it’s more than that. Our wedding was fantastic. Yea, yea, every bride says that, but they mean it in different ways, and I struggle to explain mine. Yes, I got to marry my favorite man. Yes, we had a great party (with really great food). Yes, his vows were just perfect and my hands were shaking and the music was very personal.

But my favorite moment of the whole night, the one I return to over and over with a lump in my throat and tears threatening to fall, happened just before I made my walk.

I felt lost and scared and shaky. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to puke or pass out, and I was all alone, having just sent my flower girl and Jr. bridesmaid off. I expected nerves, but I didn’t expect to be incapable of moving.

Then I heard the opening to my song (”Sweet Pea” by Amos Lee) played by my little brother and I smiled. I took a few steps and suddenly, a very real representation of all of the love in my life was there in front of me. All those people, all because they love us. Many of those people worked tirelessly for the days leading up to that moment, cleaning my bathroom and lawn and putting up photographs and attending to a myriad of details that we could no longer handle on our own. My best friends, my family, his family, our neighbors — they came out in full force with a happy willingness to help.

Why? I don’t have a good answer. My gratitude and appreciation and overwhelming sense of responsibility to this fabulous clan bubbles up from my heart and makes me giggle.

I’ll be honest, I often wondered what the point of the whole thing was… as recently as the day before our wedding day. Vows spoken to a man you love – that can happen anywhere, with anyone or nobody around. The very core of a marriage only requires two people and someone to make it official. You don’t really need fancy dresses and rehearsed walking and twinkly lights.

But seeing the lengths to which your loved ones will go to help throw you a party to celebrate your life choices? Priceless. Every thank you I uttered, every token gift I handed over, every word I wrote – none of them good enough to express the unalterable feeling of being loved.

My husband and I were joined in marriage in a sunny clearing on the property of our first home by a long-time family friend of the groom, in front of our closest friends and family, all of whom showed their love for us by helping to make it happen. My favorite line from Ruth 1:16 came true: “Your people will be my people…”

I’m not sure how much I’ll be blogging for the next little while, and frankly, I’m dreading recaps a little bit. How can you articulate feelings that overwhelm you? I’ve thought about doing my usual “learn from me by avoiding this” kind of post, but I don’t wanna. As I said in my vows to my guy, I want to look forward with him and choose him every day of my life, until we can look back on a lifetime. There’s little point in analyzing an event you’ll never repeat.

Don’t worry, though. For you, my dear friends, I will tell the story – the story of how two people stubborn enough to try doing everything on their own learned that sometimes you can’t, and sometimes that’s the point.

Smoochies.