The Wedding--Take Three--Game Day

I'm a nervous Nellie.  It doesn't take much to send me into a fix of anxiety, so I had many stern talks with myself before this day.  My guests will not enjoy themselves if I'm a mess, I lectured, and no one wants to see you crying your face off,so suck it up, Sister.  My lectures must have stuck, because I woke up calm the morning of my wedding.  Granted, I was not a blushing 21 year-old bride.  I was 35, but still.

My guests stumbled, some hungover, some jet-lagged down to the kitchen for a bit of breakfast and coffee before the first event of the day.  We did not look pretty, but we were smiling.  At 8:00 our yoga instructor arrived, arms bearing brightly-colored mats and just the right amount of energy.  For some of our guests, this was their first yoga class, so our  instructor guided us through some gentle poses, and throughout our hour wove in just a bit of the spiritual to set our intentions for the day.  David and I aren't religious folk, but we often hunger for a spiritual life, and we certainly wanted our day to have an aspect of holiness.  There couldn't have been a more perfect way to invite the sacred in than this.

The day didn't remain so serene, however.  Promptly after breakfast, the boys were off to set up chairs and such on the mountain.  They would be dressing amongst the trees.  Meanwhile, the girls cranked the stereo, popped the champagne, and took our mimosas to our respective rooms to prepare ourselves.

It didn't take us long to get ready.  In retrospect, perhaps I should have curled and pinned my hair into some respectable contortion appropriate for such a momentous occasion.  Perhaps I could have had my make-up done.  Maybe I should have engaged in a six-month wedding work-out regimen, but I didn't, and while I might not be movie-star beautiful in my wedding portraits, I had a blissful two hours to myself to soak in the tub, smell the pine air, and think about the importance of the day.  At the end of it, I looked like myself.  A refreshed and happy version of myself, and I'll not be sorry for that.

Fresh and readied, the girls and I made our way to the base of the mountain, where we joined my father, and up we went on the precipitous climb in the ski lift.  Under our fancy dresses, we had popped on our tennis shoes to prepare for the rocky terrain at the summit.  We gripped the safety bar as our lift gently swung us up the mountain.  Without the many feet of snow that covered this mountain most of the year, the distance between us and the ground seemed endless, and my nerves were jangling.  My father joked and encouraged, distracting me with his endless talk of moose and bears.  Ruddy-faced bikers passed our lift on the way down.  Their legs swung freely, safety bars unfastened, while their bikes dangled behind them.  They waved and congratulated us, surely amused by these strangely-dressed creatures in their wilderness. 

Somehow our guests had managed to assemble themselves in Falling Star Meadow down the path from where we landed on the ski lift platform.  Sounds of the Spanish guitar drifted faintly into the clearing where we waited for the ceremony to commence.  It was here in the clearing during the last-minute fastening and straightening of our dresses that we realized we had no flowers.  Not a one.  Needless to say, panic ensued.  My brother and a kind guest volunteered to make the thirty minute journey back to the Timbers to retrieve them.  Meanwhile, my poor guests sweltered in the intense mountain sun.  The girls and I tried our best to entertain them from our hiding place--shouting little cheers and bits of songs.  Eventually someone began a sing-a-long and all seemed content for the moment, if a bit sunburned.

The ceremony was glorious and imperfect.  The ring bearer, our little nephew, got a bit of stage fright before his big moment and had to be pacified.  When we saw him lilting down the aisle wearing the moose-shaped binoculars swinging from his neck, we knew his mother had improvised.  That wasn't our only hiccup.  My lace train snagged an unforgiving twig from which my quick-thinking bridesmaid freed me, and a dozen other moments didn't go quite as planned, but there was magic as well.

Despite my initial reticence, my husband decided to write a song for the ceremony.  My family and I are shy people.  We do not sing in public. Ever.  But David and his family are not so shy, so he and his sisters, along with the groomsmen, led the guests in song.  Something happened, though, about mid-way through the second stanza.  David, overcome by emotion, and nerves and the stunning beauty of the place, began to cry.  He couldn't seem to get the words out.  Somehow the terrifying thought of singing in front of this crowd fell away, and all I could think to do was join him.  Then my train snagged once again, and my poor shy bridesmaid found herself rescuing me and joining me by my side.  Somehow it was alright.  Somehow my beautiful guests, many of whom I know would rather have not been asked to sing along, sang anyway, and smiled back at us.  It was powerful.

The rest of the ceremony felt much like that moment.  As each of our guests read, or spoke or prayed, I was overcome by the feeling that these people were pulling for us, that David and I were going to make it because we had so many people wanting our happiness.   

The rest of the day is just what you might imagine.  I'll spare you all of the details.  I've already shared too much, but as a storm bloomed on the horizon, we made our way back down the mountain, gathering several miles away for some breathtaking photographs, and headed back to town for an evening of great food, unabashed dancing and one more strained but marvelous sing-a-long.  Just as we folded our silk and lace into the car to begin the rest of our evening, and the rest of our lives, the heavens opened up, and the rains came.  Marriage has been much like that day, moments of warm sun broken up by storms.  While I can't say that our plans and lists made for a perfect day, I can say that it was perfect for us.  It was messy and beautiful, just like life.

Here is what I will take from these few days in Fernie that marked the beginning of my married life.  These amazing friends and family paused their busy lives and traveled hundreds and even thousands of miles to be with us, really BE with us, so forgive me while I thank them.  They were all such important components of the wedding that it not only would not have been so magical but would simply not have been at all had it not been for them.  Michael, our favorite neuroscientist/clergyman, created a moving and lovely ceremony for us.  His wife, Teresa, groomswoman extraordinaire, graciously joined the guys in the hot alpine sun to haul chairs and then somehow make herself gorgeous despite having to dress on the ski run.  Our dear friends Mary and Dee, who cater for a living and spend their days cooking for others, slavishly worked to set up meals without even being asked to, all the while making us laugh.  The best man, Doug, warmed our hearts by taking care of every detail left unattended while simultaneously charming the guests.  My brother, not one for seeking attention, scurried behind the scenes to keep the wine bar stocked while somehow documenting the weekend with awesome film and photos.  Also not one to call attention to himself, my darling father kept me grounded and sane, telling me jokes to keep me from crying and reassuring me every five minutes that everything was perfect.  Dana, despite some trials happening in her life at the time, made a perfect matron of honor, beaming at me as if her heart would burst at our happy day.  Most trusted best friend and bridesmaid used her knack for diffusing tense and awkward moments to keep the guests happy and entertained while reminding me to cut loose and enjoy myself, just as she always has.  Joyce and Paul, Erin and Jon--thank you for your heartfelt readings, your help and your joyfulness.  Curt, Ann, Kim, Dawn and Kimberly, thank you for leading our guests in our dorky songs with so much pep and panache.  To David's parents, your readings were also beautiful, as were your blessings for us.  We will never forget them.  Little Ben, Chase and Josh, you were the most amazing ushers and ring bearers ever.  I'm so proud of you.  Charles and Cecelia, your Brazilian energy and spirit added something special, and the wedding would have been the same with out it.  To all of you, my deepest thanks.