The teacups were chosen, the tea bags were tied. Passports and paperwork and visa applications. One long-distance romance across the pond, a promise made to each other, and made again before the eyes and ears of friends and family gathered on a mountain in New Hampshire.

In your mother’s house, surrounded by family photos, everyone worked together to tie the bow of your sash. And retied, and retied.

He cried during his vows, you did too. She was so swept up in the party that she forgot to do a first dance, as did you.

Speeches were made in your honor, and glasses raised, and you even sang happy birthday.

The pizzas kept coming from that wood fired oven, and the black-eyed susans rolled in the breeze.