They Did

My brother got married this weekend. After months of planning, preparation and worry, the big day finally arrived, complete with cloudy skies and the threat of rain. The clouds held off just long enough to get us hoping, but by the time we were on our way to the church it was pouring. We pulled up and scurried inside, and then there wasn't a whole lot to do other than wait. The groom was surprisingly composed, so my duties were light: an occasional pocket-pat to make sure I still had the rings (tungsten, by the way, and quite lovely), and lots of pacing. In between, I checked the crowd to see who had arrived. The church was charming, but small, and the pews were full when the music signaling the start of the ceremony began.

Now, it's no secret that marriage (the ceremony, not the institution) is something I don't quite understand. All those archaic trappings that only seem to exist for the purpose of turning a joyous day into a stress-filled carnival of conspicuous consumption. To my surprise and delight, this wedding was simple, personal and moving yet still one of the most elegant events I've ever attended. It may have been gloomy outside but inside it was a beautiful day, and when the crowd spilled out of the church we discovered mother nature was in a good mood - the sun was shining her blessings down on the happy couple.