Celebrating Love
There was a stage in my life when I dreamt of having a big wedding. Not massive, but certainly bigger than what was ‘normal’ in my family.
My parents got married in 1986. They had twelve guests. My parents were twenty-two and twenty-four. My mum wore her mother’s wedding dress and my dad wore a navy suit. In the photos I’ve seen, they look happy and in love. They still look like that today.
My parents didn’t understand my desire to have a big wedding, and I didn’t understand them, though I suppose that’s not atypical for a high school student. It wasn’t until later that I began to appreciate the appeal of celebrating a union with something smaller. That was around the time that I realised there was a distinct link between my flushed face and blotchy red neck and the number of people around me.
When C and I first started getting serious, we talked about eloping. I don’t recall exactly how or why the conversation came up, and I really don’t remember much of what was said, but I do know that the idea was appealing to us both. From that point on, we more or less knew this was what we were going to do and on March 20, 2021, we made it happen. Our photographer, the celebrant and her partner were the only ones in attendance. And Chilli.
It was the perfect day. We’d only been to our elopement location once – the day before, briefly. That day, the clouds hung low, but we were still stunned by the beauty of the place. It was better than we’d anticipated. On our wedding day, the clouds had lifted to reveal a bluebird day. What we saw now was the vista of stunning mountains, in all their glory as we exchanged vows. After the photos had been taken, we put on our pyjamas, tucked into a charcuterie board, and dove into our cake, sharing bites without even bothering to slice. We were together. Just the two of us, and Chilli. Exactly what we’d wanted.
Last weekend, my friend, Jolenda, and her fiancé, Jason, got married. I met Jolenda, or Joey as she’s called by many, when I first moved to Beaver Creek. She was working at the school as the Upper Tanana Language teacher when I started at Nelnah Bessie John School. She and Jason had plans to marry in Whitehorse this coming summer but decided less than a month ago not to wait any longer and to tie the knot right here in Beaver Creek.
It was a community event. Beaver Creekers came together to help with the preparations, the bridal shower, the cleaning, organizing, and decorating of the community club. It was a big deal and on the morning of the wedding, as I was getting ready, I thought of all the people in the community who were also preparing for the celebration. There would be close to 100 guests, most from the Beaver Creek and some from other places in the Yukon and in Alaska. That morning, I suspected most folks in town had Joey and Jason and their love on their mind. I walked with Chilli, my friend, and her dog before the wedding, and we talked about the excitement the couple must be feeling. I thought back to the day C and I got married and the overwhelming love we felt.
Joey and Jason exchanged their vows in Beaver Creek’s community club in the presence of family, friends, and neighbours. Beat Ledergerber – Beaver Creek’s oldest person and the celebrant, sat in a wheelchair at the front of the hall. He cracked jokes and shared heartwarming sentiments as he married Joey and Jason. The hall was decorated with fairy lights and tissue pom-poms, the ancient gymnasium floors and basketball hoops transformed.
It was a wonderful day of celebration. After the ceremony, many of the guests followed Joey and Jason in a procession through town. Their van, with ‘Just Married’ written on the back, took the lead. The RCMP stopped traffic on the highway (one or two cars passing through are considered traffic here) and we wound through town. After the procession, all enjoyed delicious food and danced into the night. It was heartwarming, inspiring and filled with warmth.
Jason and Jolenda on their wedding day with their two children, Axel and Kyler.
Society tells us there is a standard when it comes to weddings. They ought to be big. They ought to be expensive. They ought to be captured by professional photographers and maybe even videographers. They ought to be this, and they ought to that. There is the silent message that these specific details are what signify true love, the inference that a fairy tale happily-ever-after will follow.
Don’t get me wrong; I have nothing against big weddings! One of my brothers and his wife had a gorgeous, picture-perfect wedding with friends and family, food and dancing, everything gorgeous—a happy and visible celebration of their love. It was what they wanted and it was beautiful. But it’s not for everyone.
Love is unique. Joey and Jason shared their happiness with the whole community; C and I chose to say our vows privately in a quiet winter landscape; my brother and his wife chose a pared-down version of a large celebration. Each was perfect because each was a celebration of love.
And perhaps that is all there is to it. Perhaps that’s all that matters. Flowers can be dried or real or plastic or not there at all; tiered cake or cupcakes or no cake, guests or no guests. As long as there’s love.
As Valentine’s Day approaches, we’re told that a lavish gift, a getaway, a box of chocolates or a steeply marked up bouquet of roses aren’t just a symbol of love; they are love. I’m not here to poo-poo the joys of gift giving (or receiving for that matter); however, I believe we need a collective reminder that love is so much more than that, too.
Love is found in hand squeezes, cups of thoughtfully prepared coffee, an understanding gaze, a little note left behind before work, a walk together or a meal with your favourite ingredients. It’s found in the song you love, a picture together, a magnet you purchased from a street vendor while on holidays, and in the walls of the home you’ve created together.
Love is the celebration that exists at a wedding pulled together in two weeks’ time, at an elopement, or at a lavish wedding where all the stops have been pulled out.