Something old, something new

A week ago to this minute, I was sitting in our van outside Grace Baptist Church with my sisters and Laura Lottes, all decked out to the nines, waiting for the signal to enter and walk down that aisle. We had just spent five hours preparing our hair and faces and the rest of ourselves, mostly relaxed and fun, until the tense last few minutes when we were rushing to finish, putting on our dresses and lacing up Sarah’s, pulling our bouquets out of their vases of water, brushing something shimmer-y on our arms. I thought about the days we’d just had together, filled with apple-decorating, way too many episodes of Gilmour Girls, Rachel and I putting the finishing touches (beginning touches?) on the song we’d written, tons of laughter and good food. Everything leading up to that moment at the doors of the church... yet for me, the moment didn’t feel climactic in a make-you-cry sort of way. It just felt like another step along the way, a good step, with a tangible intensity of meaning that skipped over sappy emotionality and landed somewhere in deep contentment.

I walked down that aisle and did not trip. The ceremony was one of the best kind, with just the right balance of light-heartedness and taking-it-seriously, simple and lovely. Sarah was the epitome of a bride, calm and joyful, relaxed and gorgeous; I was in awe. What a woman she’s become. At the reception, I told everyone that she’d taught me about moving through change gracefully. The wedding really was proof of this, because although I know our sisterly relationship has changed, I feel very little grief, very little desire to linger on what we’ve lost, and much more desire to embrace the wonderful now, to love this change, because it is above all a gain. I have a new brother. I have a sister who loves him and who has become more lovely because of him. I feel joyful and graceful.

The only thing I hated was having tons of people I knew and loved in one room, and not having any time to move past superficial conversation with any of them – it makes you a strange sort of tired. This is the reality of weddings, I suppose. Other than that, I really don’t see how anything could have gone better. I’m glad I still have the paint on my toenails to remind me of it. Nick and Sarah Hawkins, blessings upon you. I love you both and I see the love both of you have to give each other – may it overflow.

Check back soon… I have more to say and finally, the time to write it.