Of course you notice their beauty – the groom tall, lean, golden in the California sun, he in formal grey, but with the whimsy of suspenders, she, demure in flowing waves of white chiffon, baby tears woven in her hair and her bouquet.
What really strikes you is how comfortable they are with each other, best friends who also happen to be bathed in romantic love. Then you notice their tenderness, the softness with which they gaze upon each other. You watch them talk, the tenderness and attention they show each other, how proud they seem of the other, how gentle, yet how strong and steadfast they have been in the fours years since they first met and grew in love.
They described it to me as an “organic” wedding, a ceremony that grew naturally from their sentimental love of family heirlooms and their sensitivity to the joining of two families with different religious tradtions.
They planned for their wedding to be outdoors in their beloved wilderness, where they could share their love of birdsong and nature with their invited guests.Their friends pitched tents and talked until the wee hours. Their parents and grandparents, lodged in comfortable cabins, perhaps dreaming of how different things were when they were married.
When cheers of mazeltov rang out as the pastor pronounced them husband and wife, I couldn’t help thinking how lovely a wedding can be when it truly includes the shared philosophy of bride and groom. The food was simple, delicious and abundant. Because they did so much of the work themselves, they began the process of building something together from the start.
I didn’t fully understand what organic meant until after the wedding, but the effect is clear when you see it in action. Something that’s organic is whole because nothing artificial is added. It’s an ‘organic’ event that celebrates the uniqueness of a wedding, but reflects the values and visions of the couple.
Long life and happiness to my granddaughter and her beloved husband.