life as i know it...

** My apologies for the HUGE pics...I'm technologically challenged:)**

Where do I start?  How do I even begin to attempt to describe the weekend of the wedding?  So much of it feels like a dream, moments remembered in flashes of color and feelings.  If I thought that time was altered before, it has been exponentially altered since the Friday before we married.

 

That Friday was a busy but lovely day, beginning with a bridesmaid luncheon at a local tea room.  Settled amidst the company of female family and friends, we enjoyed a delicious array of salads, quiches, fruit, and heavenly chocolate.  The afternoon was spent lazily visiting with family before our evening rehearsal and dinner. 

 

 

I slept late on Saturday morning, relishing sleep until my beautiful goddaughters crawled into bed to awaken me.  Much to my surprise, my nerves were quite calm throughout the day.  The details of everything were already arranged and there was not much left to do before getting ready for the wedding itself.  By late afternoon, it was time to get to the country club and begin getting ready for the main event. 

 

I arrived, donning a head full of curlers, lounge clothes, and carrying an icy can of root beer.  During the next 1-2 hours, the club’s locker room became transformed into the likeness of a backstage area at a beauty pageant, makeup and hair products and dresses covering every inch of open space.  For someone who is not much of a “girly girl,” I found the whole scenario a bit amusing.  Nevertheless, I embraced the traditions of the day, finally emerging in the image of a true bride.  I was able to embrace it all, even the curlers and makeup and fancy dresses, knowing that each aspect of the day had been orchestrated with meaning and symbolism embedded within it.  My dress, made of delicate champagne lace and beading…a gift from my sister.  The strand of miniature, antique pearls around my neck…the same pearls my mother wore when she was just a small child.  The flowers I held…fastened by a choker worn by my great-grandmother whom I never had the opportunity to meet.  And most importantly, the people surrounding me…the Mama who taught me strength, the Daddy who taught me love and compassion, the Sissy who taught me generosity and the value of acceptance. 

 

As the time drew near for the ceremony to begin, my heart swelled even greater in the presence of the women standing beside me.  My beloved friends and family, women shining outwardly in their own individual beauty and exuding an even greater beauty from within.  Tiffani…my sister, my maid of honor, my rock in the midst of any storm.  Robin…my soul.  Ginny…my heart.  Jess…my spirit.  Cloey…my friend for all reasons, seasons, and a lifetime.  And of course, my two beautiful goddaughters…my precious angels Hope and Faith, who continuously offer me the very gifts of their names.

 

As each of these beautiful women walked down the aisle, I finally felt my nerves begin a dance of excited anticipation.  Steadied on the arm of my sweet Daddy, the pure sound of a violin and keyboard playing Pachelbel’s Canon in D, we began to walk and I captured the first glimpse of my soon-to-be husband awaiting my arrival.  Standing beside the fountain, ivory rose petals floating across the calm surface, my eyes met his and the calm of the water rushed through me.  I saw his smile, tightened slightly at the corners, the breath he held as his bright blue eyes wore a thin veil of tears.  Seeing his face, knowing that expression, my heart brimmed over with love for this man that was so desperately trying to contain his emotions of the moment.  With each step closer, his smile brightened, our faces mirroring one another with the certainty felt in the commitment we were ready to make.  My Daddy offered his blessings, kissed me, and lovingly took my hand from his arm, placing it in David’s open palm.  In that moment, standing with the two men I love most in this world…my heart has never felt so completely and wholly full. 

 

The ceremony itself was short, but it held greater meaning than any words can depict.  The minister offered a traditional welcome, speaking of the beauty and strength of marriage.  Our vows, traditional with a few personal additions, were spoken more through our eyes than our voices.   A reading that I wrote months before our wedding was read aloud by a dear friend.  David’s father sang Josh Groban’s “You Raise Me Up,” his deep, rich voice reaching out through the heavy June air, pulsing into the veins of all those present.  We placed the wedding bands on one another’s fingers and were pronounced husband and wife.  As David held my face in his hands and we shared our first kiss in marriage, the world and everyone around us disappeared.  Until that moment, I did not know that it was possible to love him any more than I already did.  But in that moment, I fell in love all over again, the comfort and joy and passion merging into one another until the only truth I knew was a love greater than any I could have ever imagined.  A closing prayer was then offered by my grandfather and the ceremony was over. 

 

The irony is that it really was not over; it will never be over.  Of course it was only the beginning of our marriage and the sharing of our lives, our hearts, our home, our forever.  But it also was not the ending even of the ceremony, because those moments have been ingrained within me, moments and memories that will also live on forever.  Those are the moments that we will return to when life’s obstacles threaten us in fear or frustration or sorrow.  It is that day, those moments, that cemented our future and paved the path we are now walking, day by day, side by side.

 

The reception was filled with smiles and laughter, a few more tears and many more moments that will live on as memories.  It was a night of excitement, two families joining together in support and celebration.  There is so much that could be told about that night, but honestly it was a few brief moments throughout the night that have stayed in my heart, reminders of life’s most simple and beautiful joys.  Dancing in my Daddy’s arms, the security of knowing I will always be his little girl in some aspect.  David and I dancing with our goddaughters and his 82-year-old grandmother, all of us spinning and twirling through the music and the generations.  Standing between two of my best friends, our arms wrapping a blanket of love around us, cheeks washed by tears with no words adequate to express the infinite bond we share.  And finally, shedding the fancy dress for one much more fit to my personality, the night ending with more dancing, more hugs, more appreciation, and more love.

 

It was a beautiful day, a day painted in the perfection of truth and complete love.  It was a day filled with meaning and happiness.  It was the best day of my life so far, and it was the day that will always be remembered for the moments, the splashes of color and emotion that tint our greatest dreams.