Project : Priceless --our wedding experiment: Wedding recap: the Ceremony!

Flowers by the lovely Flower Factory

After the blindfolded reveal, which you can read about here, we had only a tiny bit of time to get a couple shots with Laura, get the girls bundled over to the ceremony site, and get me into my dad’s car. Everything went smoothly with the tiniest exception: my lipstick had been tucked away in the reception tent, which meant I couldn’t do a touch-up without holding up the ceremony and giving poor Amy an aneurysm. I broke my own cardinal rule, from years of doing makeup for other brides, and headed out without an extra coat of colour, and to be totally honest, I worried about this until, days later, I saw myself in some photos and was reassured I looked fine. Old habits die hard; I now, belatedly, have more sympathy for those brides I harangued throughout the years for letting their lip colour expire on the big day.

Sitting in that car with my dad, laughing about the family members we could discern, both of us nervous and full of jitters, I was just so happy that it was my dad and I there. The DJ was playing big band music, and I was growing more and more anxious waiting for the one song I knew would cue the start of the ceremony. ‘Dad,’ I said, ‘My stomach hurts.’

‘You’re fine,’ he said.

‘Nope. It really hurts,’ I said.

‘You’re fine.’

‘What if I throw up, Dad?’

‘You’re not going to throw up,’ he said. My dad has this ‘Jordan is being a crackpot’ voice he uses on these occasions. Sometimes it’s just exasperating, but today it was reassuring. I wouldn’t be sick, because Dad says I’m crazy. Good. Okay.

Jordan "hiding" behind a tree

But the interminable waiting started to get to both of us, so Dad ushered me out of the car ahead of schedule. I said we were supposed to wait in the car ‘til the last moment but he waved that off. We stood together on the lane and peeked through the trees at the ceremony area. My nerves continued to soar, up up up, and Dad did what he did best: tried to make me laugh.

We watched the ceremony begin, with my sweet Brian walking down the steps, his mom on his arm. Then the bridesmaids and groomsmen began walking in from the east and west. I didn’t know this ‘til later, but Brian was thrilled because he could see me spying on him from the trees; he recounts this as a favourite part of his day, seeing me act like an excited kid on Christmas, peeking downstairs to see the presents.

I was getting really nervous now, standing beside my dad and knowing we would start soon. I told him that my goal was just to get through the ceremony so I could go see the pig in the barn. I started chanting, ‘Think pig, think pig…’ And that triggered a memory for both of us: many years ago we’d heard a retired Olympian give a talk. He was a downhill ski champion, and he’d been older and poorer than most of the other athletes; consequently, he wasn’t seen as much of a contender and had had to wear a hand-me-down pink ski suit. As he nervously pushed himself off of his starting point and began zipping down the hill, the fellow had realized his snowsuit had ballooned out from the air speed, and that he now looked like a giant pink pig. Apparently in the footage of his race, you can hear him laughing hysterically the whole way down the hill…and he won his medal. It was a family thing, for years, to say ‘pink pig’ when you were nervous and needed to relax and just let things flow. I hadn’t thought about it in years, and it came back to us both now at the exact same time.

Shakira Whitton

And so it was that, as Dad escorted me down that long green aisle, I was laughing the entire way. Because every time the nerves started to hit and my eyes would well up, my dad’s voice was in my ear, paraphrasing the Olympian’s speech: ‘I’m zipping down the aisle…my wedding dress is ballooning…I look like a big, pink pig! Biiiiig, pink pig!’ And down that Olympic aisle we went, scared but laughing.

Shakira Whitton: the rock in the pocket

Once I was at the foot of the stairs, and saw Brian’s smiling face, all the nerves in my belly untwisted and turned into radiant joy. I walked up the steps, reach out to my sweetheart…and realized my hands were full. I looked around for Sir Tam to take my bouquet, but even then my hands were too full…that’s when I realized, I had a rock in my hand. Riiiight: that was my token for the south and the element of fire, and I was supposed to place it on the little table at the bottom of the stairs before I took my place on the landing with Brian. It wasn’t a small rock, either; it was half of a grapefruit in size, a beautiful quartz geode that Brian and I had divided when he’d been living in Calgary so that we’d both have half of the whole. I was supposed to place it, with great meaning, on the altar beside the half he’d also placed there…instead I was now twelve steps up and unable to do so. I surreptitiously showed it to Brian, who started laughing because he also didn’t know what to do about it. Then I remembered: I have pockets on my dress! I reached to my far side, held the pocket open, and dropped it in. Right here, you can see it happening. We giggled like kids who’d hidden their brussel sprouts in a potted plant.

Aiden Wolf Photography

I asked Brian, last night, what was happening for him at this point in the ceremony. Brian said two simple things: ‘I couldn’t believe this beautiful girl was walking down the aisle towards me. And I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.’ And when I stuffed the rock in my pocket? ‘I was thinking, oh my god, what are we going to do with that rock? And then I thought how smart you were for remembering you had pockets.’


Aiden Wolf Photography

The ceremony began with an intro by Alan, our officiant, followed by the calling of the corners (a pagan tradition) by our dear friend Kim, who followed that up with a reading of Robert Frost’s ‘Road Less Travelled’. Brian says he couldn’t stop staring into my eyes at this point; I was staring back, too, but I closed my eyes for a long moment and just inhaled the smell of the pine archway around us. I took in the feel of the sun and breeze, and I looked up at the wood, the trees, the fantastic green foliage. I spared a quick glance at the audience, and I tried my best to simply drink in the smiling man in front of me. I felt like I’d arrived at a destination I’d been travelling towards for a very long time—much longer than just ten months of planning, or two years of dating.

Jordan's Mom's hands, holding our rings.

We came to the exchange of the rings, and Tam came up the stairs with the little pot that held them. Brian took mine, and I took his, and it was my turn to put his on first. We did the usual ‘With this ring, I thee wed’ business, and I tried to slide the ring onto his finger…and found I had to push. Like, hard. Figuring that Brian had swollen up with nerves, I just shoved that sucker as hard as I could. Brian didn’t say a word, til after my own ring was on and Alan was preparing the next activity; it was then he mouthed, ‘You put it on the wrong hand.’

‘What? Oh, shh—‘ I whispered, ‘Switch it!’

‘I can’t,’ he said, ‘It’s stuck!’ We both started giggling nervously. There was nothing we could do, without looking ridiculous and perhaps discovering that, indeed, the ring was stuck; if I tried to pull it off him now, and it didn’t let go, we could have to stop the entire ceremony while the paramedics came onto the landing and cut the damn thing off him. So we left it. Brian tried briefly to hide his left hand in his pocket, then just hid it under my own hand.

Our vows broke us both down into tears. We both followed a similar template, but filled in all the blanks individually. When Brian started sharing his, and began to cry, I welled up. Every line he said, he said with so much love and conviction. More than anyone else at the ceremony, I knew what these words meant to him, and to us. Sharing these special promises, in front of so many people, was the part of the wedding where I felt the most vulnerable. I’d worried for months that I wanted our vows to sound meaningful, rife with magic and significance, but there was nothing to worry about. Even the part where Brian promised to check the house for monsters didn’t sound at all silly in the right context.

both above: Aiden Wolf Photography

Aiden Wolf Photography

Everything wrapped up quite quickly after this. The handfasting was done, the rings were exchanged, the vows were said, and Kim closed the circle. Her presence centered us both. Before we knew it, Alan was introducing us as Mr and Mrs Kent-Baas and inviting us to kiss. We laughed through the kiss because Alan had coached us that we needed to remain lip-locked for a full ten seconds…and we could each tell that the other one was counting down. We ran down the aisle, a little shocked by the barrage of lavender and rosemary that showered down upon us (instead of the usual confetti), and the moment we were at the end of the aisle, Brian begged me to get his ring off his blue, swollen finger. He swore it couldn’t be done; I muttered, ‘Oh, for the love of…’, took his finger in my mouth, and slid the ring off with my teeth. Problem solved.

both above: Aiden Wolf Photography

We had about thirty seconds of time together before people started walking up to us, wishing us well and congratulating us. An informal receiving line was begun, and when that ended, we were whisked off for photos….

…So stay tuned for the next (and final) recap: wedding party photos, and the big reception party! For now, here are some more shots just for your enjoyment. Photo credits: Laura Elizabeth Photography has watermarked her pics in the right corner. Aiden Wolf Photography (and any random shutterbugs) are labelled. All watermarked with 'Adam Pap' are by our lead photog for the day, Adam Pap.