Remember that one day?
We sure do. It was the middle of October (the best Indiana month, if you ask us). And while you (whoever you are) may not have joined us at the big red barn, where we cried and vowed and laughed and ate pie, we wanted to give you a peek into our wedding day with this inaugural blog post.
Photo credit goes to Jer Nelsen. Talent like his is a rarity; he flawlessly captures feelings and truth above posed "perfection." Until seeing these images, "that one day" felt like a distant memory - one you can't remember in great detail, but recall glimpses with fondness.
When they say your wedding day will be a blur, they're right.
We can't share the entire day in one post. That would be far too much scrolling for your poor fingers. So, we'll start from the beginning - the pre-I-do primping - and see how far we get. After all, we're calling this post "Part 1" for a reason. :)
For my girls and me, that fall day began in my hometown beauty shop. Clad in flannel, we ate cinnamon rolls and sipped coffee while hair irons danced, methodically twirling.
Perfect morning, if you ask me.
As for the boys, we had some work to do.
An early morning of setting up chairs and organizing tables was followed by sandwiches and Capri Suns at the Beutler residence. Jokes were shared as I took final recommendations for reception songs, with the suggestions ranging from "mildly inappropriate" to "I think I could still get grounded for listening to this." After a few laughs (and a nervous dry heave or two from yours truly), we put on our suits, slipped on our fancy socks, and I relearned how to tie a tie.
I wish I could wear this dress again. And again, and again.
My sweet big sis gave me special perfume for that day. Now, every time I smell Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue, I'm a bride again.
Scent: such a powerful memory trigger.
Doing my hair has never been one of my strengths, and this moment captures how uneasy I felt knowing I had to gel my own hair for once. My exact thought at the time of this picture was, I just want my hair to look like Leonardo Dicaprio's. I think I overshot it.
See that pretty wooden box? It's a "Wedding Box," a traditional bridal gift in colonial times. Grooms would craft them for their intended to be used as a trousseau box, storing keepsakes. This is where I kept my vows, my great grandma's clutch, earrings, perfume, and garter. It was an engagement gift straight from Colonial Williamsburg, VA, given by my great aunt and uncle.
I love thoughtful details.
Something new: the earrings I'm putting on (see them more clearly below).
My last moments before heading to the venue. The only thing I remember is how incredibly nervous I was. I just hoped everything would go smoothly and I wouldn't cry. Only one of those hopes was realized; everything went smoothly.
It was an emotional day for all, but no one more than my Momma.
While I wasn't the first chick to leave the nest, I am the last.
Such a lovely nest, after all.
Something old: pearls.
My sister wore them on her wedding day, as did my grandma.
Grandma didn't make it to our wedding. Just two months before, I kissed her cheek and said goodbye to her for the very last time.
And, you see, that's another bittersweet thing about weddings. As you address invitations and comb through RSVPs, you're reminded of all the people you love, both those you'll see on your wedding day, and those you'll long to see.
Oh, grandma. I wish you could have helped me clasp your pearls.
Something borrowed: veil.
But I didn't borrow it long. Right before the ceremony, as I paced about in the motor home (very short paces), I decided it just wasn't me. So, I ditched it. Because on your day, you can do what you want.
Something blue: shoes.
These vintage-looking Anthropologie peep-toe wedges were the BEST choice. I broke them in the night before, giddily dancing around the house, but I really didn't need to. Their leather sole wore comfortably, and I didn't experience any blisters or stuck-in-the-grass stiletto catastrophes.
Attempt #16 of trying to tie my tie. I know how to do the basic "job interview" knot, but there was a suggestion we go for something a bit more formal and I was razzled. Also, I have more chins than Buddha.
If there ever were a picture to describe why I married Maggie, this might be it.
And then, it was time for my Pops to see his little girl.
The door opened, and I went from bride to baby in a matter of seconds.
And I don't care who knows it.
In that moment - that daddy-daughter hug - I remembered every scraped knee he wiped clean, every "mowing lesson" he gave, every late night he spent in the barn with my sister and me, every butterfly kiss, every volleyball game he traveled to, every tear he wiped with his ever-present, back-pocket hankie.
And my heart nearly burst. How did we get here, again?
The tears didn't last long once I saw my gals.
They have a way of making life feel lighter.
What beautiful friends I have! From left to right:
Jessica: Friends since kindergarten & recess & macaroni art play dates.
Claire: Friends since seventh grade & volleyball & bangs/braces.
Julie: Cousins since birth, friends since high school computer class & tennis & Hacienda.
Mallory: Sisters since birth, best friends since birth & broken arms & fairy dust.
Megan: Friends since second grade & roller blades & American Girl dolls.
From left to right: Cory, Colin, Chris, Handsome Devil, Patrick, Alex.
What a great group of guys. I feel like we either look like something out of a J. Crew advertisement, or the Board of Directors of a lapel manufacturing company.
This picture is supposed to represent how we laugh. Lesson is: never tell Colin a joke.
Annnnnnnd I threw in a group pic for kicks, not chronology. Don't worry, folks - this was taken after the ceremony. (A groom should never behold his bride before nuptials!) While I hate to be cliché with a wedding jumping picture, this one is too marvelous to withhold.
More pictures soon to come. Because "that one day" was too wonderful to condense.
And, because every good blog post needs a cliffhanger.
- Kyle & Maggie
(gent and the journaler)
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