It was beautiful in all of the ways I didn't expect. The air was thick and unmoving; the afternoon full of love and tears. To have come to the point of right marriage after years of hardship and struggle and uncertainty seemed surreal. The blessing of the occasion was exceptional. It felt like too much blessing to be deservable. It was so much time in planning and over so quickly, in flashes: the song playing... "Like a Rock"... Sienna carrying flowers from the field; Nick, with his heart wide open, tearfully proud to walk me down the aisle, Gruff, waiting for me, solid and strong as ever, so handsome in his frock coat and vest; friends, family, and neighbors to witness and participate in our commitment to love and to each other; laughter, sweat, tears of joy; softening light and wandering through the renovated farmhouse, restored to beauty by our vision and hard work; beef cut with disposable knives, horseradish sauce, asparagus, cold water and dabbing napkins for my brow; cutting the cake and tasting the creamy sweetness, kisses, heartfelt toasts...
In Nick's toast, he told a story of Gruff transporting a too big tractor around curvy West Virginia roads in a rainstorm and how he felt afraid and thought it might be best to stop, to get off the road. It was scary and dark and the trailer was lurching from side to side. He suggested this course of action to Gruff, who turned to him and said, "Don't worry, Nick. We'll get through it." And they did. And we will too, all of us, get through the storms and heat and whatever comes.
Our wedding was the fulfillment of a hope and the promise of a journey to come. It was humid and authentic. It was tearful and joyful. It was too short and just the right amount of time. It was for us and for everyone who came. It was birth and restoration both. It was the middle and the beginning all at once. It was raw and honest and straight from the heart.
I commit to the ongoing journey of authentic love.
