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talkstowolvesA year ago today, Andy and I stood up in a small chapel before an intimate world and the assembled beloved: it was deep in the heart of winter and, in a warm and sheltered place, we declared ourselves a loving union.
It was a single celebration in a journey that, at that point, had encompassed nearly twelve years: we met when I was a shy girl of nearly sixteen, with big glasses and a bigger heart. He was an entertaining lad of nearly twenty, attracted by my chatter concerning William Wallace. We formed an instant friendship over Raisinets, history, and the demons in our friend Shana's tape recorder. I had no way of knowing it then, but I had met one of the greatest loves and most loyal friends of my life: a man whom I would love completely and quarrel with bitterly, who would stand with me through sickness, health, triumph, failure, joy, and pain... all before he ever vowed to do so.
In The 10th Kingdom, Virginia said to Wolf, "I just never want to jump unless I'm sure someone's gonna catch me." It was eerily similar to something I'd said to Andy once, so long ago. Wolf replied, "I'll catch you. And if I miss for any reason, I'll sit by your bedside and nurse you back to health." It's exactly what Andy has done in our lives thus far.
We chose to wed on December 21st, 2008 because it was the winter solstice. Although I love autumn, I always wanted to be a winter bride; instead of honoring the dying year, I wanted to celebrate my love in a blaze of glory welcoming the future. I wanted to couple my belief and dedication to a common life between two people with the belief and dedication in willing the sun to be born again.
Also, I wanted a dress white as snow with trim red as blood, which is exactly what I had. I also was blessed with red roses in December, gorgeous orchids dripping from my bridal bouquet, and tiny star-shaped white flowers. I wore a glittering tiara dotted with garnets; I felt like the Snow Queen, young and in love. The Snow Queen transformed by love, vibrant and living, far from her frozen palace and the cold eyes of a bespelled Kai. Instead, in a dear friend's unrelated words, I was Snow Queen in a world where my beloved dreamed of "snow as warm as skin, and ice as blue as a woman's eyes."
Because of graduate school, I wasn't heavily involved in planning our wedding and the wedding itself wasn't a complicated, involved affair. My mom did most of the work, for which I am forever grateful. Both my mother and my father, as well as my grandfather, really made the whole ceremony happen and my gratitude runs as deep as my regard for each of them.
Jamelle was my maid of honor (who ruled with an iron fist!) and, as you can see from the photograph above, she was absolutely gorgeous. Besides green being her favorite color, it was one of my wedding colors: partially due to seasonal symbolism (the thick dimness of evergreen) and partially due to it being my best friend's favorite color! Andy's best man was a friend from college, Adam: he who was once a lawyer, but has dropped everything to go to medical school. They both came through for us brilliantly; Jamelle, especially, was amazing, flying in from sunny Las Vegas to celebrate our union in a cold and less exciting Montgomery.
My three brothers were the ushers: it was incredibly important to me that they all take part in the wedding. Looking sharp in their tuxes, each wearing a red rose boutonniere, they directed our nearest and dearest to their seats.
We wed in the small chapel attached to the First United Methodist church in Montgomery. It's my grandparent's church. I never attended, but it looms large in my personal history. It looks like a castle and has caught my imagination since I was a little girl. It's also where we went for special occasions - such as beautiful Christmas services. My religious orientation may lie elsewhere, but I am culturally a Christian and the attendant iconography of using a church and the high language of their service didn't bother me. In a way, the ritual was comforting.
Favorite picture of my mom, emotionally overcome that her first child and little girl had finally married:
On the way down the aisle, my dad treated his duties as serious business:
Just before we approached Andy at the altar, we stopped and gave my grandfather a single white rose in memory of my grandmother. She had died almost a year and a half before that day and, although our relationship was horribly fraught, I did miss her to some degree. (Also, my great aunt had died only just a year before my grandmother and her funeral service had been in the same chapel; you can see that this chapel had some history for my family. I wanted to come full circle, from observation of death to celebration of life.)
At last, we arrived next to Andy and before the Methodist minister, David (a truly excellent man of the church who consented to marry us). I trembled like a leaf all the way through my ceremony, and my voice probably sounded wavery as I declared my vows. Honestly, I don't remember much of these moments of intonation, apart from the warmth of Andy's skin, the gleaming wooden surfaces, the kind assurance of David's voice. I think I was composed, then, only of adrenaline and light. Transfigured by joy, I professed well-traveled vows and kissed my beloved before all gathered souls.
Once we left the chapel, there was an emotional reunion with family. I was hugging everyone: I overflowed with excitement and pleasure. I babbled all over everyone, when I wasn't smiling fit to crack my face. After all the guests had exited the chapel, the immediate wedding party (Jamelle, Adam, Andy and myself) took a surprisingly long limo ride around Montgomery. Really, it was surprisingly - we'd requested to be taken "the long way" around the corner, essentially, figuring that would involve a leisurely drive through picturesque, older neighborhoods. Instead, we circumnavigated Montgomery and arrived at the reception when most people were restless, ready to pay their respects and leave.
Because my personal cadre of friends are spread across the world, only a small gathering was able to appear at our wedding. Of course, there were our friends who still lived in Montgomery (or had family in Montgomery that they were visiting). Peter and his dear Alana traveled from Florida (though originally from Boston). Many others were there in spirit - Mia, Seanan, Sarah, Becky, Shana. But the majority of those in attendance were my grandparent's friends and other, not as close acquaintances. Our reception wasn't a drawn-out affair, and we ended up leaving with only a small group of people still there to shower us with flower petals upon our exit.
Although missing so many people, my wedding day was certainly one of the happiest days of my life. And, even though we then spent the night hanging out with Jamelle and my brothers, Andy and I later had an intimate first Christmas together at home.
There are tons of pictures in the wedding gallery (including larger versions of all the photos featured above). Check them out!
Merry Yule to you all - may you celebrate the longest night in love and light!
It was a single celebration in a journey that, at that point, had encompassed nearly twelve years: we met when I was a shy girl of nearly sixteen, with big glasses and a bigger heart. He was an entertaining lad of nearly twenty, attracted by my chatter concerning William Wallace. We formed an instant friendship over Raisinets, history, and the demons in our friend Shana's tape recorder. I had no way of knowing it then, but I had met one of the greatest loves and most loyal friends of my life: a man whom I would love completely and quarrel with bitterly, who would stand with me through sickness, health, triumph, failure, joy, and pain... all before he ever vowed to do so.
In The 10th Kingdom, Virginia said to Wolf, "I just never want to jump unless I'm sure someone's gonna catch me." It was eerily similar to something I'd said to Andy once, so long ago. Wolf replied, "I'll catch you. And if I miss for any reason, I'll sit by your bedside and nurse you back to health." It's exactly what Andy has done in our lives thus far.
We chose to wed on December 21st, 2008 because it was the winter solstice. Although I love autumn, I always wanted to be a winter bride; instead of honoring the dying year, I wanted to celebrate my love in a blaze of glory welcoming the future. I wanted to couple my belief and dedication to a common life between two people with the belief and dedication in willing the sun to be born again.
Also, I wanted a dress white as snow with trim red as blood, which is exactly what I had. I also was blessed with red roses in December, gorgeous orchids dripping from my bridal bouquet, and tiny star-shaped white flowers. I wore a glittering tiara dotted with garnets; I felt like the Snow Queen, young and in love. The Snow Queen transformed by love, vibrant and living, far from her frozen palace and the cold eyes of a bespelled Kai. Instead, in a dear friend's unrelated words, I was Snow Queen in a world where my beloved dreamed of "snow as warm as skin, and ice as blue as a woman's eyes."
Because of graduate school, I wasn't heavily involved in planning our wedding and the wedding itself wasn't a complicated, involved affair. My mom did most of the work, for which I am forever grateful. Both my mother and my father, as well as my grandfather, really made the whole ceremony happen and my gratitude runs as deep as my regard for each of them.
Jamelle was my maid of honor (who ruled with an iron fist!) and, as you can see from the photograph above, she was absolutely gorgeous. Besides green being her favorite color, it was one of my wedding colors: partially due to seasonal symbolism (the thick dimness of evergreen) and partially due to it being my best friend's favorite color! Andy's best man was a friend from college, Adam: he who was once a lawyer, but has dropped everything to go to medical school. They both came through for us brilliantly; Jamelle, especially, was amazing, flying in from sunny Las Vegas to celebrate our union in a cold and less exciting Montgomery.
My three brothers were the ushers: it was incredibly important to me that they all take part in the wedding. Looking sharp in their tuxes, each wearing a red rose boutonniere, they directed our nearest and dearest to their seats.
We wed in the small chapel attached to the First United Methodist church in Montgomery. It's my grandparent's church. I never attended, but it looms large in my personal history. It looks like a castle and has caught my imagination since I was a little girl. It's also where we went for special occasions - such as beautiful Christmas services. My religious orientation may lie elsewhere, but I am culturally a Christian and the attendant iconography of using a church and the high language of their service didn't bother me. In a way, the ritual was comforting.
Favorite picture of my mom, emotionally overcome that her first child and little girl had finally married:
On the way down the aisle, my dad treated his duties as serious business:
Just before we approached Andy at the altar, we stopped and gave my grandfather a single white rose in memory of my grandmother. She had died almost a year and a half before that day and, although our relationship was horribly fraught, I did miss her to some degree. (Also, my great aunt had died only just a year before my grandmother and her funeral service had been in the same chapel; you can see that this chapel had some history for my family. I wanted to come full circle, from observation of death to celebration of life.)
At last, we arrived next to Andy and before the Methodist minister, David (a truly excellent man of the church who consented to marry us). I trembled like a leaf all the way through my ceremony, and my voice probably sounded wavery as I declared my vows. Honestly, I don't remember much of these moments of intonation, apart from the warmth of Andy's skin, the gleaming wooden surfaces, the kind assurance of David's voice. I think I was composed, then, only of adrenaline and light. Transfigured by joy, I professed well-traveled vows and kissed my beloved before all gathered souls.
Once we left the chapel, there was an emotional reunion with family. I was hugging everyone: I overflowed with excitement and pleasure. I babbled all over everyone, when I wasn't smiling fit to crack my face. After all the guests had exited the chapel, the immediate wedding party (Jamelle, Adam, Andy and myself) took a surprisingly long limo ride around Montgomery. Really, it was surprisingly - we'd requested to be taken "the long way" around the corner, essentially, figuring that would involve a leisurely drive through picturesque, older neighborhoods. Instead, we circumnavigated Montgomery and arrived at the reception when most people were restless, ready to pay their respects and leave.
Because my personal cadre of friends are spread across the world, only a small gathering was able to appear at our wedding. Of course, there were our friends who still lived in Montgomery (or had family in Montgomery that they were visiting). Peter and his dear Alana traveled from Florida (though originally from Boston). Many others were there in spirit - Mia, Seanan, Sarah, Becky, Shana. But the majority of those in attendance were my grandparent's friends and other, not as close acquaintances. Our reception wasn't a drawn-out affair, and we ended up leaving with only a small group of people still there to shower us with flower petals upon our exit.
Although missing so many people, my wedding day was certainly one of the happiest days of my life. And, even though we then spent the night hanging out with Jamelle and my brothers, Andy and I later had an intimate first Christmas together at home.
There are tons of pictures in the wedding gallery (including larger versions of all the photos featured above). Check them out!
Merry Yule to you all - may you celebrate the longest night in love and light!