Monday, September 22, 2014

Weddings and the nature of Time

I am a firm believer that during the process of a wedding that time travel is not just theoretically sound by actually possible. It is the only explanation that I have for how I experienced the day, and how's mind remembers the events of the day in total.

My first memory is the only one in correct order, which works out nicely to frame the day. I remember waking up, tossing on a few scraps of clothing and heading outside. I sat on a bench, just staring at the slowly brightening sky, and I remember quite distinctly thinking that the day should have been more profound. I was almost insulted that the day wasn't unique or different in some way, this was a huge day for me and my love and it seemed unfair to have it be just another day. After a few moments reflection, I decided that it being just another day was perfectly fine with me because now it would be special for us.

Prep and breakfast was a blur, and the drive to site happened in a blink of an eye. My next strong memory is walking through the garden, running my hand along the benches and feeling a heavy sense of emotion in the air. It felt like everything was vibrating with potential and I was afraid to breathe let alone touch anything lest I set into motion something I wasn't ready to handle. I'm sure I spent hours in there, studying the leaves on the ground and the grain in the wooden rails before the photographer met me out there. 

The line up went too fast, the practice drill went too fast, everything before the wedding was to fast. I was so sure they were playing the music to fast, because how was anyone to appreciate the personal musical selections before the wedding, that I asked the wedding coordinator why the music was playing that way. Pretty sure I confused her though. And there were questions, and cameras, and people and movement and standing and it was all like a blurr to me. At one point I found myself leaning on the wall just to try and center myself.

Time blinks, and I'm in front of everyone. No ones looking at me though, everyone's looking back at Sarah as she walks down the aisle. She looked so damn beautiful, it's all I can do to not burst out in some kind of song/dance/cry  routine. We stood there for days just looking at each other and enjoying the moment, the weather was perfect and the sun hit her just right. Now the day was special, unique, and utterly amazing. The day was made boring, so she could make it beautiful. Time started to catch up, but never really moved at the right speed for the whole ceremony.

I was worried, a small part of me, during the ceremony because I was SURE we had been standing out there for over an hour. I was worried what friends and family would think, for me making them stand outside in the heat for so long, but before too long we were walking down the isle and freshly married. Time moved in a blur, and suddenly we were dancing our first dance as husband and wife. It felt like a Disney movie, the beauty and her beast dancing in a beautiful hall. We talked and laughed and enjoyed the moment, but it was over far too quickly for my taste.

The rest of the day was a blur of activity with moments of slow and sharp clarity. I remember distinctly dancing with my mother and grandmother, and the looks of happiness on their faces. I remember her family congratulating me, shaking my hand. I remember hugging Sarah close and the smell of her being calming and bliss. I remember sharing laughs with friends at the reception, and warm hugs at dinner. I lived what felt like a year in the span of a day, but at the end of all the exhaustion I would have lived it a thousand thousand times. It was perfect in every way. 

They say as you move closer to the speed of light, time will slow and even come to a stop. Sarah is my light, and that day I truly feel time did slow and stop so we could enjoy the day forever.