Lindsay + Simon

Lindsay had a unique way of making you feeling like you were the only person in the room. I  supposed Simon found this trait to be intoxicatingly beautiful as the rest of us surely did. Her empathy was clearly her superpower and she didn’t know, or perhaps she did, know that her her tiny hands had the ability to make others feel what she was feeling.  That every time she touched someone or brought their face close to hers, that it would unhinge their socialized resistance to emotion, crumbling their walls, instantly transforming them into waterfalls. Her petite frame holding a massive universe under her skin that seeped from under her pores that was palpable in any room she smiled in.

Stepping into their home with its white walls and floor to ceiling windows and beautiful views, you could feel the love radiating from the walls and the writing on the bathroom mirror . There was deep love in this home. I  could feel the hardship they went through without putting a name to what occurred that gave them the strength of an 75 year marriage before any ring was ever on her finger. While Lindsay was liquid… creative, beautiful intentional , flowing with movement and tears, Simon… Simon was the rock, her rock. A kind, quiet boldness that makes you take notice in a room. A strong foundation for her to stand on that gave the very definition to ying and yang. In build his physical strength was obvious but in heart you could feel there were scars in his heart. Hardship that he would have faced alone if Lindsay didn’t stretch his scars so his heart would beat a little easier, she was his air so he could breath easier with her around. While keeping his strong face on, while I adjusted his tie, I  could feel his excitement…just moments away from being close to his bride. 

An explosion of tears and hugs that had no time limit, I looked onward through tears with hope that I  would have someone someday that would allow me to hug them as long as I  wanted. He never pulled away and she could have stayed in his arms all day, like some days I imagine they would. Wiping tears not fearful of smudging makeup that didn’t matter because they wanted to soak in every moment. She had his undivided attention and he was enamored with her. Far past her beauty, you could almost feel their soulful entanglement. That their patience, really paid off.

I’ve never seen a bride be so present. Albeit running my timeline a bit behind, I  didn’t mind. She was making a focused effort not to let any second pass her by without touching it, acknowledging the moment and showing gratitude for it. She would look everyone in the soul, every loved one she gave them her undivided attention and let the love spill over. She stopped me for a second and said “ I  want to look at my bridal party” and just watched them while they got in a line up for pictures so she could compliment them on how impeccable they looked. She chose black tuxes for the girls that gave them the sex appeal of super secret service agents about the save the world, it was unique and so much fun. While we were taking group photos, a bee flew close to her face and without hesitation , Simon jumped in and grabbed the bee with the reflexes of an olympic sprinter to save his bride the sting he unfortunately incurred. The price of being her night and shining amour, not to be confused with armor. He didn’t mind, I got to see the glimpse of his knee jerk responses to protect her.

Overwhelmed with love for each other they kind of revolved in their own little world. Paying little attention to my commands, camera and posed photos I  felt we “ had” to get but I  was realizing the opportunity to capture something much greater. This was who they were, and that was far better than anything I was about to construct for them.

Arriving on site to their venue, I  got to see just how much from tradition they lovingly  strayed. With the strong island vibes of Tulum, hookah and cigar corner and a dance floor that illuminated “ Love me lights out” rivaled any club , the reception felt so removed from the Missouri regionality and transported us into the deeply magically bohemian world they allowed us to experience. Lindsay with her creativity, you could see her intentionality at work in the functional details while Simon brought balance, his light hearted nature and knack to make others around him feel comfortable with a sturdy handshake and a joke or laugh, or a spontaneous floss contest with the flower girls . 

The moments shared with family, so ardent , even my words can’t do justice to the feeling the photos exhibit. Too many tears to count I was happy to overhear the words spilling out to grandpa “ Because of your example, I waited for a love like yours and grandma’s, and I got it.”

Once the ceremony began, stopped in his tracks when she came down the aisle, a day he had actually been waiting for a long time was finally here. Finally someone that got him, understood his heart and let him being himself unapologetically. Someone he could tell his funny stories to, someone that allowed him to let go of his guard and taught him what love was, what not giving up meant. He had never known that kind of love before, selfless with no cap or conditions, and Lindsay was an endless waterfall that he was never scared of drying out. 

With kisses before granted the permission to kiss, was exactly them. Not holding back, no rules, or appearances to keep up , it was refreshing to be  in the aura of this kind of love. The vows peppered with inside jokes and sentiments that were just for them , the look in her eyes gave him permission to let out a couple of tears that were just for her. She couldn’t keep her hands off him as she delivered each word as it was released from her chest, letter by letter. Sheer joy of jubilation “ As you may now kiss the bride” she nearly fell over in elation. They were one. And once the festivities were over, the real party began. The outpouring to all the beautiful hearts that adored them mutually, watched on with heavy full hearts knowing they just watched someone’s fairytale come true.

— Alea Lovely … The Wedding Journalist