Married - and in Turkey.

We sadly said goodbye to family and friends in Colorado, said goodbye to the mountain house, which over the summer months has been surrounded by green grass and purple wildflowers, said goodbye to the prolonged wedding celebrations, and boarded a plane to Istanbul.  We arrived on day two of Ramadan.

The clock on my computer says it's 10:00pm EST, but my body knows that it's early morning in Istanbul. Sleep will not come. The morning call to prayers from the Blue Mosque--loud, reverberating in our hotel room--woke me up.  In the distance, I hear a cat meowing, the sounds of a car motor, and seagulls.

I woke up to my mind racing - to thoughts of our small ceremony, where Ethan's father played the bagpipes and, like the Pied Piper, led our guests down to the meadows behind the/(my new) family's mountain home, through sage brush and wildflowers.  Then, I thought of the beautiful words spoken by Jerry, Ethan's friend from grad school and our officiant; the readings by Cherlou, Eric and Nicole; the speeches by Latham and my sisters ... 

Looking back, a few days after, it wasn't a polished affair; rather very casual and free. And yes, I wasn't over the moon about my dress, but it did the job.  All of it felt so very intimate, with family and friends contributing in various ways: the bagpipes, our officiant, the readings, the awesome pies baked by my sister-in-law (we did not do wedding cake), the wildflowers arranged by the women in my family (though admittedly bought from a florist); my makeup done by my sister, Jack; the photography by Rhys and Ingrid; offers from CK to pick up my dress when it wasn't delivered on time; and, through it all, coordination of all the moving pieces by Ethan's mom.  Because of these contributions, the day turned out to be much more meaningful.  

Anyway, I'm sure I'll write more about the whole thing later.

But my main point this early morning: I woke up in Istanbul and suddenly became aware that I was utterly happy.  And if I've learned anything over the years, it's to savor times like this, to really grab hold of them, and maybe even to document them.