Vows

A number of people at the wedding asked to see the vows we wrote…(of course we wrote them! We’re writers!) We humbly oblige.

Shannon says to Mark:

I love you. I love how you listen to me, even when I have no words. ESPECIALLY when I have no words. I love how you give me permission to be myself, even when it’s messy or inconvenient. I love creating with you—stories and gardens and projects and our home. I love listening to you. I love how you came to trust me slowly because you were letting me in all the way down. I love that I never have to try and figure out what you really mean, because it’s always right there in what you say. I love that you open jars, and lift heavy things, and kill spiders, and are perfectly comfortable with us having a slightly untraditional wedding party. I take delight in your company; I miss you when you are away. You have brought so much richness and creativity into my life. You’ve taught me how to be far more honest with myself than I ever knew how to be. You give me space to be me and room to grow. I am a happier and stronger person because of you, and I am thrilled to become your wife.

I promise to keep listening to you, and to keep trying to remember what I heard. I promise to pay attention to the big picture, despite the noisiness of the little details. I promise to love you and respect you and enjoy you and take you seriously and laugh with you. I promise to keep trying to find my words, ever more clearly, especially when it’s hard. I promise to grow with you, and work with you, and play with you. I promise to be your partner—sometimes leading, sometimes following, always hand in hand. I promise to keep trying to be more flexible, because—believe it or not—things don’t always turn out exactly how I’d planned. I have no doubt or hesitation in making these promises; the road we’ve traveled together so far leaves me fully confident that we will meet the challenges to come with love and care and trust for one another. Mark, I treasure you, and look forward to so many rich and happy years together.

[Mark says to the audience: “Mine are longer”] 🙂
Mark says to Shannon:

Until five years ago, I felt sure I was incapable of loving anyone all the way down. I could not imagine such love. I saw it around me sometimes, between people who seemed to possess some human quality or capacity I lacked, but that potential simply wasn’t anywhere inside of me. When I told you that, you just smiled and said, “Take all the time you need.”

When people ask me if I’m nervous about getting married, I tell them without hesitation that nothing I can think of seems more obvious and inevitable than marrying you. You have made it not just acceptable but comfortable to be who and what I am. You have made it safe to be entirely face to face both with you and with myself, without any fear or shame–when I’m succeeding, and when I am failing. You have convinced me that I can be me without breaking you. After all these years, I am, to my continuing astonishment, finally whole. Not just because of anything you’ve said or done, but because of who you are–at your best, and at your worst. I could not have designed a woman, a companion, or a wife as marvelous, as surprising, as enjoyable, as trustworthy or as comfortable as you are. Your grossest flaws are just the ones I would have chosen–if I’d been allowed to, and smart enough to think of them. I love you without any shadow of doubt or fear–with all my heart, and mind, and body, and soul. I want nothing I have not already found abundantly in you.

I promise to be and do the very best I can, to keep trying to make sure you have the best me possible to live with and depend upon. I promise to value, respect and protect you as you are, and as you may become. I promise to keep paying attention to, and finding delight in, both who and where we’ve been, and whoever we are becoming, and wherever we are going. I promise never to assume that I know you or us too well to need such attention anymore. I promise to keep giving both of us permission to be and do and feel and say whatever is true, whether or not it’s what we expected or wanted. I promise never to try replacing what’s actually happening with what might or should have happened. I promise never to leave you guessing about what’s going on inside me or between us, and never to leave you to work out our tasks or troubles all alone. I promise never to let fear or pride or shame persuade me to hide from you.

When uncomfortable things need to be addressed, I promise to do so quickly, and to listen to and respect your requests, your insights, and your complaints with an eye towards making things work better, rather than just assigning or avoiding blame. I promise to continue bringing as much beauty, creativity, wonder, adventure and imagination to our lives together as I possibly can. I promise to try to keep growing right until I’m dead, and not to go to sleep on either of us. I promise to try my best to go on being your boyfriend even after we’re married, and yes, I promise to keep killing poor, defenseless little spiders whenever you require them dead. None of this seems burdensome to me. I promise none of this just because I think you want me to. I promise all of this because it’s what will give me satisfaction and delight to achieve. I have never had a better list of things to do, or better, happier reasons to do them.

I know that I cannot promise to know what the future holds, nor can I promise to succeed at anything, including any of these promises. But I can, and do promise to give everything I am, everything I have, and everything I am capable of to trying. I do so promise.

[then Elizabeth leads us in the litany, as we repeat the magic words after her:]

I, Shannon, take you, Mark, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.

I, Mark, take you, Shannon, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.