Because Benjamin and I just turned 6 months old together, I
have been more nostalgic than normal for our wedding day. After a vivid wedding
dream a few nights ago, I woke up to the stark realization that the only time I
get to relive the day is in my dreams (or maybe in heaven…). It is a day that I
will forever remember and never get back.
When I think about February 18, 2017 from start to finish
there are so many moments that come to mind: waking up at 6am and announcing to
my favorite coffeeshop “I’m getting married today!”; putting on my dress and crying
with my mom; dancing with my girls outside my house before heading to the
venue; walking towards Benjamin for the first time whilst ditching my umbrella
in the rain; reciting our handwritten vows to one another as we sense raindrops
fall from the sky, our loved ones gathered around with umbrellas to pray...
Of all these moments, there is a singular sweep of time that
will forever rest on the pedestal of Best. Waiting for our reception announcement,
Ben and I locked arm-in-arm beholding a glowing tent at the bottom of the hill,
exuding the unique tint of warmth and light that comes only with the existence
of loved ones. It was as if we were onlookers upon a tapestry created by the
interweavings of our own existence, all the strands of our lives woven together
in one instant; beautiful because it was whole. Witnessing the scene below beckoned
a profound sense that the messiness of the world was pulled outside the tent,
so that what remained was a few fleeting hours of pure indescribable joy. This
tent that brought a stream of tears the night prior, now seemed as if there couldn’t
be a more perfect vestibule to encapsulate the collision of all the Best in
life: friends, family, drinks, tacos, pizza, music, dancing, long dresses, and ice-cream
cookie sandwiches (of course). Making our way towards the tent, there was a
notion of leaving the old life behind and entering into this new life together;
a life of unknowns and questions; up’s and down’s; but in all things joy
because we have each other. Entering the tent, I can’t imagine a more poignant
representation of a “thin place;” the expectancy of our arrival held thick in
the air, and the applause felt as if the gates to heaven just opened. Stumbling
over each other during our first dance; we were unclear whether the cause of
our own instability was the rain glistening on the dance floor or the massive
wave of love sweeping over us as we attempted each step. It didn’t matter. As
Walt Whitman writes “We were together, I forget the rest.”
