It makes me cry everytime

Though not necessarily crafty in the usual material sense, our friends are gifted when it comes to words, music, and images. Two of Mr. Barefoot's friends played folk and bluegrass music at the cocktail hour. You've already seen some of the fantastic photos friends and relatives shot that day.

The ceremony, which featured readings from my two brothers, two close college friends of mine, and three grad school friends of Mr. Barefoot's, along with a blessing from my mother, the one minister on site who had been ordained through a proper bricks-and-mortar seminary, was my favorite part of the day.

A dear friend became the Rev. Jo B for the day, repaying a debt, with interest - as he pointed out - incurred when I was flower girl, ring bearer, officiant, and witness at the impromptu ceremony atop a Kauai hill joining him and my dear college friend more than a decade ago. The children of this couple, along with my nephew were our adorable flower children.

Our officiant's wife, one of my dearest friends and Woman of Honor, read this poem. I tear up every time I read it.

Teodoro Luna's Two Kisses

Mr. Teodoro Luna in his later years had taken to kissing
His wife
Not so much with his lips as with his brows.
This is not to say he put his forehead
Against her mouth--
Rather, he would lift his eyebrows, once, quickly:

Not so vigorously he might be confused with the villain
Famous in the theaters, but not so little as to be thought
A slight movement, one of accident. This way
He kissed her
Often and quietly, across tables and through doorways,

Sometimes in photographs, and so through the years themselves.
This was his passion, that only she might see. The chance
He might feel some movement on her lips
Toward laughter.

-- Alberto Rios