the ceremony

At 5PM on Saturday, October 10, 2020, we exchanged vows in front of the fifteen most important people in our lives. When we arrived at Oz Farm, the wooden signs covered in exclamations; arrows pointing in the direction of a stand was filled to the brim with warm cider and donuts. A bushel of sweet apples and programs wrapped in besamim (sweet cinnamon sticks, dried orange, and flowers) for our havdallah ceremony. Polaroid cameras and a book with our names scrolled across it; navy blue yalmukes with our names and the date. Each element a tiny prayer--a sweet whisper of forever. 

The string trio played by the chuppah: a great arch covered in sunflowers and romantic creams and blues and, at cocktail hour, moved towards the bar. Sweet melodies filled the air like a promise. J and I read our vows below the canopy, Gil's tallis above us, like the covering of home and, right before Jordan's vows began, a gust of wind danced through the tallis, through to the breaking of the glass and the first kiss. 

A secret note, from four winters ago. A promise of every day, forever. 
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