Summer wedding, is there a more beautiful two-word endeavor? Seattle in August is reliably rain-free, but the temperature can fluctuate between medium cool and heatstroke. Last week, let me start by saying, was a scorcher. But we made it work.
The bride was a dear sisterfriend I’ve known for more than twenty years whose connection with her community is felt around the globe. Her groom was a real-live Englishman, tall and square-jawed and eloquent. Their marriage was not a surprise, as they’ve been together ten years, but we were no less thrilled to be present for their nuptials.
We gathered at the house of another friend, a highly-respected member of the Seattle music scene that I’ve worked with on numerous projects. This was the first time I’d been to her home, and the minute I walked in I was completely enchanted by the decor, which was vintage mid-70s: exposed wooden beams, rug-strewn floors, and a large, low sofa with colorful blankets and cushions scattered everywhere. The rooms contained well-tended plants, a record player with stacks of LPs, and art from around the world. The window sills were studded with crystal pyramids, an upright piano stood sentry in the hallway, and family photos were displayed everywhere.
The original plan was to spend most of the pre-ceremony time outside in the host’s beautiful garden, but the heat at 4pm was almost 90’, and family elders were expected to arrive soon. So we pivoted to the dining room, and set out snacks and pitchers of flowers, and stocked a cooler with ice and cold drinks. The hostess pulled down the window shades and opened the front door, and planted rotating floor fans here and there. Chairs were set out and arranged in rows. The hostess then produced a large sheet of thick white plastic, which she called a “sail”, that she strung up across the garden patio, so that guests would have a modicum of shade during the ceremony. The bride and groom would be off to the side, under a canopy that would also shield the elders from the sun.
As always before weddings, there was a group of women working hard on these tasks. Most of them I had met previously, at an afternoon tea party held at the Fairmont Hotel, and if you don’t know about that situation, let me just say that for a few precious hours, a group of women (and one pre-teen girl, whom I sat right next to) got to relax, toast the bride with quality teas, and devour scrumptious treats prepared according to all our various food allergies.
All of these women were in their 40s and 50s, and the level of crisp competence that we brought to the wedding prep was nothing short of extraordinary. As the tasks were completed and the event took shape, I realized that we could have planned and executed a military rescue operation, a grand ball, or a Hollywood film shoot. The group effort was stellar, is what I’m saying.
Here I will confess that I begged off from a few of the final tasks, because I had to prepare for my big job: I was the wedding officiant. You read that right!
I had a script for the ceremony that had been written by the couple, who had used it in their previous English wedding last Spring, when the groom’s relatives were in attendance. This time was for the bride’s family and community, and I wanted to deliver my best.
I found a quiet corner and went over my words by line. The script included a few poetry readings by various guests, and I consulted with each to make sure they knew when to enter and exit. Then I walked out to the back yard and stood under the wedding canopy, belting out a few lines to make sure I could be heard across the entire garden space.
Guests began arriving and the noshing and chatting started. The bride and groom’s photo session in the park went longer than expected, so once they arrived at the venue we got started quickly. The bride took up her bouquet. The groom buttoned his jacket. Out in the garden, elders were seated in a shady spot in the front row. The other guests took their seats, squinting in the late-afternoon sun. I took my place under the canopy, and the music began.
The young flower girl emerged with a basket of rose petals and scattered them carefully. The bride came forth in her gorgeous blue dress, smiling with tears already forming in her eyes. The groom was next, sweating in his pink shirt, his cufflinks glinting from under his jacket sleeves.
I started to speak and hoped my voice wouldn’t shake Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of…. So many different kinds of love flashed through my mind: love for my friend, the bride, and her wonderful groom. Love for Hubs, who was my groom a few years ago. Love for this respite from the larger world’s chaos, and love for anyone who feels loveless. When you’re this full, you can afford to send some on.
Everything was going great. I did the first part of the script, the part about gratitude for all in attendance. Then a favorite aunt stood up to read a prayer to St. Francis Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Next, the bride’s high school best friend read a gorgeous love poem by Billy Collins. Her voice started to wobble and I thought, If she breaks, I’m gonna break! But she didn’t break. She got through it, and so did I. When she was done, the bride’s brother read another gorgeous love poem. Then I led the couple in their vows.
Hoo boy, it was something! I felt my own voice start to wobble, but I kept it together. The betrothed exchanged rings, joking a bit with each other. Next, I led the guests in our vows to the couple. Have you ever seen this before? It’s pretty great! We vowed to love them and stay connected to them, and a few other awesome things.
With that, I announced that they were married and could kiss on each other, and they did. Music started up again, and we all trooped back into the house. A quick champagne toast was toasted, with both the bride and expressing their thanks to the group. Then the newlyweds sang a song that the groom had written for his bride right after their first meeting years ago, when he knew that she was the one for him. Their voices filled the room with gorgeous harmony, and tears flowed everywhere, and time stopped for a minute while we all sighed with pleasure.
Afterward we walked to the wedding banquet, which was held at a nearby Thai restaurant. The food was excellent and the conversation was light, funny and heartfelt. The bride and groom took turns visiting each table of guests, and we chatted together for hours. When Hubz and I finally said our goodbyes I was so tired I thought I would pass out, but I stayed awake so we could perform that sacred matrimonial ritual, recapping a social outing.
What we landed on, and what I wrote to the bride and groom in an email later that week, is that the entire night was infused with the element of warmth. I’ve been to more than 50 weddings, and at many of them the emotional volume and general pageantry were turned up so high that you couldn’t actually enjoy yourself. But everything at this event, from the guests’ interactions to the wedding script to the couple’s voices in song, was soft, sweet, and warm, and easy to settle into. People took care of each other, and stayed present for the experience we were all creating together.
Again and again, the days rise up and fall away. Who knows how we have left? In the meantime, where there is chaos, may we sow peace. Where there is discord, may we sow harmony. When it is summer, may we sow weddings, and may they be genuinely warm and true, so we can linger long inside their perfect magic.
"... everything at this event, from the guests’ interactions to the wedding script to the couple’s voices in song, was soft, sweet, and warm..." Exactly how it should be. 💛
This is lovely. I sniffled when I read it. Reading about tears shed, or withheld, often makes me cry, too.