(photo by Lisa Blake via BV Weddings)
The guests arrived. And got a drink.
And a yarmulke.
(photo by BL)
And their seats.
My family is Episcopalian. My husband's is Jewish. Neither of us felt comfortable being married by a clergy member. So we asked a close friend of my family and Matt's dad to officiate the ceremony. It was really special to be married by people who know us and love us so much. We wrote most of the ceremony ourselves, and finding the right words to express what we were feeling and the magnitude of what we were doing that day was my favorite part of wedding planning.
We got married under a chuppah covered by my great aunt's table cloth.
We shamelessly mined the musical talent of our friends and family for the ceremony. A father/son pair of accomplished French horn players, who have known me since the day I was born, played our processional. Insert Trumpet Voluntary here.
Matt's brother/Best Man
My first loves/flower girls
My sister/Maid of Honor
And then the horns struck up Pacabel's Canon. And I was so excited that I practically ran down that aisle. It was such an honor to be escorted by my parents, who have married for more than 40 years. I think they liked it too.
After welcoming words, our officiants read a modified version of the traditional 7 Jewish wedding blessings in Hebrew and in English.
Our officiant shared words of wisdom with us.
And then our friends recited 5 wedding wishes for us and our future together.
Apparently the reactions were universal.
We declared our intent to marry. And then we recited the vows we'd written together.
After we said our vows, we signed our ketubah.
And then we exchanged our rings.
And then finally, finally, after 7 long years we were pronounced husband and wife.
Matt made sure to break every last bit of glass.
We recessed to "I Will" by the Beatles. Sweetly performed by friends who'd only met the day before.
(photo by LB)
Everyone smiled.
And then there was a lot of this.
And this.
And looking at each other like this.
