If I were to paint a picture of our house, instead of smoke rising from the chimney stack there would be words. Outwardly Ken and I may not be the best at emotional intimacy, but so much of our story is told through the songs Ken's written, the novels I write, and thousands of little notes we have stored in our drawers and nightstands.
Since music and letters are the way we communicate, we wanted to make sure our wedding reflected that dialogue. Most of our friends are musicians and writers, but there are two people in our lives who truly embody this passion for words in their very beings - Cheryl (Parker) Peevyhouse and Clayton Smith - my brother. They also just happened to be the people we know with the purest hearts.
We asked Cheryl to give a reading from Les Miserables. It was completely surreal to hear her read in front of that mountain range:
The future belongs to hearts even more than it does to minds. Love, that is the only thing that can occupy and fill eternity. In the infinite, the inexhaustible is requisite.
Love participates of the soul itself. It is of the same nature. Like it, it is the divine spark; like it, it is incorruptible, indivisible, imperishable. It is a point of fire that exists within us, which is immortal and infinite, which nothing can confine, and which nothing can extinguish. We feel it burning even to the very marrow of our bones, and we see it beaming in the very depths of heaven.
What a grand thing it is to be loved! What a far grander thing it is to love! The heart becomes heroic, by dint of passion. It is no longer composed of anything but what is pure; it no longer rests on anything that is not elevated and great. An unworthy thought can no more germinate in it, than a nettle on a glacier. The serene and lofty soul, inaccessible to vulgar passions and emotions, dominating the clouds and the shades of this world, its follies, its lies, its hatreds, its vanities, its miseries, inhabits the blue of heaven, and no longer feels anything but profound and subterranean shocks of destiny, as the crests of mountains feel the shocks of earthquake.
If there did not exist some one who loved, the sun would become extinct.
Then we asked our brother to perform a song for the wedding. Clayton Smith can make a set of spoons sound like a symphony. He lives and breathes music. We asked him to play "Book of Love," because - even in its simplicity we can find the spirit of our past and future relationship reflected in it.
While Clayton played Ken and I just randomly started singing along to each other. Not like lame-belting-out-singing, but just a little lame-under-our-breath singing. Our officiant told us after the ceremony that it was during the song that he knew we'd be very much okay in our marriage. He said he clearly saw the sweetness, the humor, creativity, love and mutual honor we have for each other. Blah, blah, blah... whatever. We just liked the song. ;-)
The officiant may have known during the song that we would have a successful marriage, but I knew it during the vows. During our reception our friends were all "um... you guys were like for real scary serious with those vows. Like 100% business. You made us nervous." We could have been on a witness stand in a murder trial we were so straight with the vows.
I don't know for sure, but guys I think it's pretty rare that two people know with 100% certainty that the person they're marrying really mean the vows. Maybe it's more common than I think. But I knew it. You know? Like I KNEW it. What's even crazier? Ken's lived out those promises every day since the day he said them.