Wed

One week ago, at this time precisely, I was arriving at a church, with an enormous bouquet of flowers in hand.  I had not yet put on my veil and I had not yet touched up my hair and makeup.  But I was very much a bride, trembling with an excitement six years in the making.

Shortly after 2:15, I met my (then) fiance on a staircase in the church, embraced him from behind (no, he did not get to see me yet) and pressed a letter into his hands, whispering, “I love you.”  The letter, for the record, also contained a letter – one penned six years ago, shortly after we began dating, and one that perfectly expressed all the hope and love I could possibly put into words.

By 2:45, I was tapping my foot and wishing that time would trot a little faster.  After six years, fifteen minutes is an eternity to wait before getting married.

3:00 finally appeared, lazy, golden, and beautiful.  Those last few seconds on the steps outside the church door, peeking through the glass panel towards the light and love that awaited – that was the best anticipation I have ever felt in my life.  Processing into the church of my childhood on my father’s arm, gazing at the smiling faces to the right and left, surrounded by overwhelming communal love – I will never forget that feeling.  I will never forget embracing my mother or staring into the eyes of my bridesmaids and bride’s man (my brother.)  I will never forget those final moments with my father at the end of the aisle, before he lifted my veil, hugged me, and handed me off to my groom.  I will never forget how my veil and train both behaved perfectly, how the bouquet hand-off to my sister was smooth as silk, how the music was beyond amazing, and the timing of our ceremony from the processional to the recessional was immaculate.

But above all, I will never, never forget the tears shining in my handsome groom’s eyes when I finally arrived at the end of the aisle, beaming and joyously ready to be his wife.

E: (mouthing words) Are you crying?
Z: (nods)

If you ask my husband, there are plenty of things about our wedding that caused me anxiety, especially in the days following.  In fact, there was one night of our “winter moon” where I slept horribly and woke up fretful because my dreams were filled with all the details that had not gone according to plan and (worse) all the faces of the people I felt I had let down, either by not getting a chance to speak to them or in some other way.

Our ceremony, however, remains perfect and untarnished in my memory: the only proper fulfillment of so many years of love and waiting.  Whatever little details bothered me before or after, that glorious half hour in which I actually got married, that was as perfect as anything can be on this earth.

I keep expecting it to be taken away from me somehow.  Like this is some elaborate hoax.  Someone will jump out and yell, “Haha!  Just kidding!  You’re not actually married.  Now say goodbye and go home.”  Except this little house is my home!  And this handsome man that I get to wake up to every morning is my husband!  No more goodbyes.

I could not for the life of me tell you what the best thing about marriage is.  I’m not sure anyone could.  However, I can say that marriage is unquestionably the best decision I’ve ever made.  I almost wrote “the best thing that ever happened to me” but that’s not how marriage works, or should work, right?  Marriage doesn’t just fall into your life.

That’s why we chose to memorize our vows.  For something as important, as deeply sacred as marriage, it seemed good to us that the binding words should be emblazoned in our minds and hearts.

I am so thankful we were able to make our vows before a host of witnesses that we love and cherish and who have vested interest in the sacredness of what we have committed to.  This marriage is the best choice I have ever made.  Or ever will make, for the matter, since I feel as though we choose it every day we are together, a sort of continuing promise.

Celebrating one week today, and looking forward to many, many more.

P.S. Posted exactly a week after the start of my wedding ceremony.  Because I am sentimental.

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