It was exactly what we wanted, and much more than we expected—that’s the only way I can describe our wedding. It’s perhaps too soon to write about it; it doesn’t seem possible that our wedding was actually our wedding. It also doesn’t seem possible that it was only a little over a week ago—it was all such a whirlwind.
The day of the wedding someone said (or perhaps I said) that the day would be like a runaway train—once it started, there’d be no stopping it; anything that hadn’t been done would just have to remain undone. And it was very much that way. Early in the morning, after the bridesmaids’ hair appointments, we began setting up for the ceremony and reception. Determined not to see Andrew until the ceremony, he, the groomsmen, and assorted spouses handled the ceremony room; the bridesmaids and I handled the reception room. I was pleased that the hundreds of pinecones Andrew and I had shipped from California added the perfect fall touch to the tables. Everything looked splendid, true fall bounty: the leaf-bedecked favor boxes (each holding a river stone Dad had sandblasted with a marriage-appropriate word); the fall-colored tulle holding Jordan almonds; the fall-colored menus. The flowers arrived; the cake arrived; the band arrived to set up. All of our abstract plans were spinning out before our eyes.
Soon it was time to get dressed, to take pictures, and then to wait. And then it was all happening—waiting in the hallway while the bridesmaids processed; walking down the aisle with Dad; then joining Andrew, listening to the poems we'd chosen as readings, saying our vows, exchanging our rings, being introduced as “Mr. and Mrs. Littell.” We were married!
The reception was as happy and fun a celebration as we could have hoped, with a band that kept everyone dancing; lots of food and cookies; and more people to talk to than was humanly possible. Dad, Molly, and Andrew’s best man, Jon, gave wonderful toasts—Dad’s was complete with a mathematical equation proving that Andrew is, indeed, my necessary and perfect match. Andrew and I needed bride and groom clones to take it all in. As we were dancing together at one point, Andrew said—“Can you believe we’re dancing at our wedding?”
The night did have a surreal quality—this was it. Our wedding. Our life together didn’t necessarily begin from scratch on November 3—life was pretty real and pretty together before that. But our life as Mr. and Mrs. Littell did, indeed, begin—married life—and our send-off couldn’t have been any more perfect.