To my sweet [someday] daughter. As I write this, your father and I have only been married for just over a month. I wanted to write to you while things were fresh on my mind. Because someday, you will ask me about our wedding. Perhaps as you plan yours. Perhaps many years prior to your own when you’re rifling through my cedar chest, or trying on my wedding dress, or flipping through our wedding album. If you’re anything like I was as a young, nostalgic girl, I was eager for details. And romance. And since my memory definitely isn’t my strong suit, I wanted to be prepared to tell you everything about your father’s and my wedding day.

We were married in May. My favorite time of year. Everything is coming alive, coming anew. Trees are blossoming, the air is neither too hot nor cold, and everything smells fresh. Growing up, it was the time of year we always went to Disney World . It’s the season when the end of the school year is near, and my stomach was full of excitement and butterflies. There’s just something about the grandier of May that I can’t quite put into words. Your Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Bill were also married in May – May 28th. Had my Grandpa Pat been alive, May 28th would have been his 100th birthday. He was born in 1914. And in 1964 my parents were married. So if you’re quick at math (I never was when I was a kid, don’t worry), that makes our wedding year, 2014, my parents 50th wedding anniversary. Your father and I decided to wed over Memorial Day weekend – an extended weekend so we could spend extra time with our family and friends, and a Sunday, because it’s the Lord’s day. We got married on the 25th, just three days before Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Bill’s 50th anniversary.

We chose to wed where I grew up: Cañon City, Colorado. We picked the prettiest place my little town had to offer: an old mansion that was once boarded up. I remember riding my bike by it as a kid, never in my wildest dreams imaging my biggest dream of getting married would occur on its front lawn.

It was important to me to get married outside and for every part of our day to be filled with intention. With that said, they have a saying that the bride should wear something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a sixpence in her shoe. Well, we completely forgot about the sixpence, but everything on me was full of intention.

I wore your great-grandmother’s (my Nana) old diamond ring on my right hand. A brand new wedding dress, a borrowed veil from one of my clients, and your Grandma Patty’s blue saphrie necklace. The trend in my generation was to wear a strapless wedding dress. You know me, though, I always want to be different than everyone else. Because of that, and becuase I was drawn to the elegance and respect of it, I had sleeves made for my dress. But, because I enjoy the best of both worlds, yes I even talked about the best of both worlds back then, I made sure they were removable so I could surprise everyone at the reception and be free to dance. My cousin Zoetta, and your Grandma Joyce worked tirelessly to piece together my sleeved bolero. After several fittings and trials, Zoetta made the bolero and I helped design where the lace would lay. Grandma Joyce sewed in each of its 30 buttons.

My bouquet was made up of peonies, hydrangea, and dusty miller. It’s stem was wrapped in lace from your Grandma Patty’s wedding dress and adorned with a handmade cameo I purchased on a girls trip (with two of my bridesmaids) to Greece. The cameo featured the Greek goddess of love: Aphrodite.  As I held my bouquet, I also held a hankerchief that belonged to your great-grandma Betty on your father’s side. I dried many a happy tears on it throughout the day.

Your father was just winding down his Air Force service, so he chose to marry in his dress blues uniform, symbolic of the life that had shaped our relationship. He wore cuff links from his undergraduate alma mater – Pepperdine University. And his watch was a gift from me several Christmases prior, symbolizing my ultimate gift to him: patience.  (I wanted to marry your dad after a month of knowing him).  The watch had two faces on it since we were always in different zones.  And it was one you had to wind everyday – symbolizing the daily effort one must put into their relationship. And lastly, engraved around it were the lyrics from a song, Love is Waiting, that had been our mantra for our long, dating relationship. The lyrics were: when it’s time to walk that way, we wanna walk it well. That song is what accompanyed our wedding party as they walked into the ceremony. Ask me about those lyrics someday…

As for our wedding party, you should ask your father about his, but for me, I chose people who intimately knew your father’s and my dating relationship — girls who’d cried with me when the deployments got hard, girls who prayed with me when we weren’t sure of our next step… girls who supported us. Your Aunt Gina, Jesie, my roommates from college, and your cousins Molly and Sydney – who will be future supports as they grow older.  I made it very clear to them that I was asking them not to be bridesmaids, becuase I hate labels, but to stand by me. On my wedding day and forever in my relationship with your dad. Not sure if my girls put two and two together, but our first dance as husband and wife was to Stand By Me. All very deliberate, of course. All the girls were gifted by me a handmade, floral robe, earrings, and a Tiffany necklace featuring the initial of their first name.

Our ceremony was filled with some of the most gorgeous, invigorating, and magical moments of my life. We got married under a handmade cross – made by your Grandpa Bill, and it was covered in flowers and ivy. I remember walking down the petal-covered aisle and that cross truly taking my breath away. The Pastor who married us, Jim Thulson, was the same pastor who married your Aunt Gina and Uncle Thor 20 years prior. He also burried your great grandma. And perhaps most profound, I became a follower of Jesus under his leadership at the Evangelical Free Church of Cañon City. The Bible that your cousin, Zach, read out of belonged to my Nana, your great-grandmother. He read a passage your father selected to guide our ceremony: Colossians 3:12-17. Nana’s Bible was the King James Version, but the version your father and I like best is from The Message:

So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.

Let the peace of Christ keep you in tune with each other, in step with each other. None of this going off and doing your own thing. And cultivate thankfulness. Let the Word of Christ—the Message—have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives. Instruct and direct one another using good common sense. And sing, sing your hearts out to God! Let every detail in your lives—words, actions, whatever—be done in the name of the Master, Jesus, thanking God the Father every step of the way.

Our rings were carried in on the same ring pillow used in your Grandma Patty and Grandpa Dale’s wedding. The wine we used during communion was made by your Grandpa Bill. And the table and cute pink table cloth we signed our marriage license on belonged to my Aunt Fran, who was unable to attend our wedding. All our music was very significant to us. Our wedding party walked in to Love is Waiting by Brooke Fraser, I walked down the aisle to So Are You to Me by Eastmountainsouth. As our dear friends Jaan and Shirley prayed with us, Holy (Wedding Day) by City Harmonic played. We worshipped as a congregation to Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing and How Great is Our God. Lastly, our first kiss as husband and wife was our first kiss ever. An extremely deep meaning sits behind that – ask me about that sometime when you’re feeling particularly eager to fall in love.

The rest of the day was a party. So surreal and special. We danced the night away. I remember never wanting to stop dancing. We didn’t do many of the usual wedding traditions, other than a first dance and cutting a cake; we didn’t do a father/daughter and mother/son dance, we didn’t toss a bouquet or garter – in fact I didn’t even wear a garter. A couple things that made our reception extra special for me was the celebration and honoring of my parents whose example of 50 years of marriage is one to really aspire  to. Since they had a very small wedding ceremony with no wedding party, no reception – just them, their parents, and the preacher, we had a cake brought out to them at the same time we cut our cake. So together we 4 cut a cake and fed our spouses. They were so surprised. I’ll never forget the smiles on their face. Finally, to kick off the dancing, we invited Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Bill to the dance floor where I thanked them for the terrific example of marriage they’ve set and the band played a song they learned especially for them: You’re Sixteen by Johnny Burnette. Grandpa Bill said he always played it for Grandma Joyce when she was sixteen. Seeing them turn into 16 year old kids, all grins, hugging one another and dancing was perhaps the most magical moment of the reception for me.  I’ll never forget how my mom giggled and they burried their faces in each others’ shoulders and just laughed and danced. Sweetest moment ever.

So those are the things of our wedding… the memories in part II.

A few images from the first half of our wedding day from our wonderful wedding photographers, Justin & Mary Marantz.