The morning of my wedding, I woke up to the sound of little voices picking out a movie on the television downstairs. Creaky floorboards of a historic home, the tinkling of a spoon stirring creamer into a coffee cup.  The hushed voices of my three sisters huddled over a phone and planning the day in a neighboring bedroom. Careful steps up and down the stairs, trying not to wake me.  These were the first sounds: the sounds of every happiness, and the banality of all of it.  The culmination of everything I’d wished for. The next sound I heard was the rain.

I had spent the past 10 days tracking our wedding weekend weather on every app possible.  Our tiny and perfect outdoor wedding that I had been planning for eighteen months sat at the forefront of my mind all week, as I willed the weather to hold off.  Dread over either boiling our 30 guests in the heat, or drowning them with rain, alternated at night while I tossed and turned.  I wrote and edited packing lists at 3am to the glow of my iPhone. As a second-time bride, I held two feelings at once: a desire for our wedding day to be perfect and meaningful, and also a desperation for the planning process and navigation of every last detail to come to an end.  This was Ian’s first wedding, and the first for my kids– and as the one planning every detail I felt such a responsibility to represent, in that day and in that ceremony, my deep love for them all. As excited as I was to finally BE married, the day itself was weighing on me as I weighed all the possible ways it could go wrong. I find that anxiety during big life events can oftentimes make people hyper-focused on one small detail, and blow it out of proportion as a representation of all the collective fears. For me, that detail was the weather.

Despair from the beginning of the week had turned into joy two days earlier, when it looked like the rain wouldn’t materialize.  I remembered Ian searching my face for relief as he shared the latest gift from the doppler days before: the storm would miss us! Some overcast clouds and maybe a sprinkle in the morning, but the hour of our ceremony promised peace. The sounds I heard now were not a sprinkle.  I opened my eyes to my soon-to-be husband cracking open the door with his phone screen opened to the weather. His eyes held so much love for me, as well as fear that I was about to absolutely lose my mind. He didn’t say anything as he showed me the screen, cartoon rain trickling down the screen for pretty much the remainder of the day.

I looked up at him, and what struck me first was the unbelievable amount of love I saw.  He wasn’t worried about the rain at all. He was only concerned about making sure my hopes for the day were intact.  He wanted to marry me and create a beautiful life together, and that’s all he cared about. I heard my kids laughing with my siblings downstairs, and realized that absolutely no thought was being given to the weather in any of their sweet minds. Their joy lived in the meaning of the day, and all they hoped and expected it to feel like to be surrounded by all the people they love.

Suddenly, I understood. This was the lesson and the last step I needed before I committed my life to this incredible man, and walked into our next chapter: You Will Always Receive What Is Meant For You.  I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me as I let the relief sink in– that special brand of relief you feel when an outcome you’ve been white-knuckling against finally happens, and allows you to stop fighting.

The wedding day continued on, and of course it was perfect for us.  The rain stopped and started repeatedly, and then turned back on in mist-form as I walked down the aisle with my eldest son.  The trees and grass were blanketed in the most beautiful droplets, and the air and sky was thick with golden light.  There was a romantic drowsiness to the afternoon that made it feel suspended in time, the perfectly hazy cocoon for the love bubble we were creating…together. We danced, and laughed, and cried, and celebrated how long life is. Hair curled, and skin glistened. The feeling that carried through the day was one of timeless Gratitude for all of it.

As Summer makes way for Fall, and we enter into the season of Gratitude and self-reflection, there are so many things that come to mind for me. This past year has been one of great transformation in my life and in the life of my family, but it has also been one of deep grounding.  When I think of what gratitude means to me, it also represents a prayer to truths we hold deeply within ourselves. I’ve been thinking so much lately about the chapters of life and their purpose. Some chapters are when we sow the seeds, each seed a lesson. Other Chapters hold the storms that water them. Still others are Chapters that herald the Bloom of all the invisible work that came before.

The rain on my wedding day reminded me that there is so much beauty when resistance gives way to acceptance; when we stop treading water and realize that floating is another choice. I looked around me that day and was filled with the completion of this cycle, and the gift of regenerative love.  My own blended family coming together through generations to celebrate a new chapter. There have been invigorating Wins this year, and bitter Losses. So many moments for me of both pride and self-conscious doubt. But throughout them all, there has been endless opportunity for Gratitude.

I’m Grateful for my husband, who teaches me unconditional love, deep connection, and that growing old with the right person actually feels like getting younger.

I’m Grateful for my children: my endless source of inspiration, and my tether that grounds me.  They are my reason for seeking the best version of myself, and are without a doubt my best friends and biggest teachers.

I’m Grateful for my modern, expansive, non-linear Family, and all the joy it brings– as well as the opportunities for growth and grace.

I’m Grateful for my friendship circles becoming smaller and deeper. I’m grateful that I’ve outgrown some relationships, and that other relationships have outgrown me. There is no better feeling than finding the space to really settle in and protect those connections you find most dear.  I’m grateful that my girlfriends keep me from going completely insane, and provide the best panacea I know to a terrible day, or a humiliating Mom Fail.

I’m Grateful for the feeling of belonging I have in my own community, and the ease it gives me to extend myself to others who may or may not receive me. Meeting new people brings me so much joy, and if it’s one chat over charcuterie at a mutual friend’s party, or great connection that turns into years of adventure, I’m grateful for the ability to connect– big or small.

I’m Grateful for my Health. When I look back at my life, I can see clearly now what a long and winding path it has been towards physical and mental wellness.  I don’t even recognize the person I was allowing myself to be ten years ago, and I remind myself daily that so many people we encounter may be fighting vicious, invisible battles we know nothing about.

I’m Grateful for the people who don’t wish me well. Sometimes you can only see how far you’ve come, and who you are, when you see the ugliness of other people’s behavior.  Encountering “haters” in my career has been jarring at times, but ultimately It helps me see life more clearly.  It only makes me more grateful for what I have, and the experiences, people, and career I’m investing in.  I’m also quite sure no truly successful or happy person has ever commented on a Reddit hate-thread.

I’m Grateful for my Career. Evolving my business this past year through my partnership with Benchmade Modern has given me the opportunity to merge my values with my aesthetic, and create a product that truly encapsulates the Happily Eva After ethos.  Having product in people’s homes, and becoming a small (but comfy!) part of the fabric of their lives, is the greatest honor.  This pull to connect, and share in life’s beautiful and hard moments, is what inspired me towards my career a decade ago.

I’m so grateful for where this life has carried and guided me.  I’m grateful both for the lessons I’ve learned the hard way, and the ones that I’ve been awarded gently.  The past few years have taught me that the Universe looks out for each of us, and sometimes when we won’t listen to the rhythm of what life has in store for our own unique journey, it makes changes in ways that can appear disruptive: ways that can make us curse and rage, ways that can make us feel insecure or vindictive. But it always sets us on the path best for us, in the end.

In this season of gratitude, I want to honor this journey in each of us: the challenges of it, and the peace within it.  The laughter, tears, moments of panic or insecurity…the glow of connection, and the vulnerability of self-discovery.

Rain on your wedding day is most certainly Ironic, but it’s also beautiful.

Photographs by Taralynn Lawton