Our oldest son, Travis, married Sara last Friday at Multnomah County Courthouse in front of his mom, pop, sibs, and uncle; her mom and pop (and their SO’s); and one each of their BFFs to formally witness. They picked the judge based on online reviews–and sometimes reviews are right: the Honorable Youlee Yim You was terrific, very sweet, relaxed, and clearly enjoying her task. Her clerk was efficient and happy like she’d just won a prize in leading these two kids to the docket of matrimony. (Her funnier lines included “She’s a judge so when she says anything, you reply Yes.” “Anyone with a camera needs to stand over here or lean way over, as if the judge was only this tall.”)
From the ceremony start to end, I’m pretty sure that Travis and Sara saw only each other and heard the judge. The rest of us popped back into existence at the end of their kiss. (Not a bad way to reenter the world.)
I had coffee with him today. I asked him if he and Sara felt any different. He said they fist bumped when they returned home, then he grinned big and said, “God, I love that woman so much!” while people at nearby tables–those okay with love, looked on in approval.
Now I can stop calling Sara “Travis’s fiance” or my “soon to be daughter-in-law.” This is Travis and this is Sara (he’s her husband, she’s his wife), and they spend a fair amount of their time like this.