Getting Married

December 23, 2010.

Until the above date, I didn't understand why people said things like: the day you get married is the best day of your life. I figured getting married was nice and special, but didn't like the idea of comparing it to every other day in your life...as if after you get married, it's all downhill from there!

But then the morning of December 23 came and it was sunny but cool, and calm. I slept in. I took my time getting out of bed, eating breakfast. My then-fiance came to pick something up from our place before the wedding and I peeked at him from the top floor of our apartment and smiled a delicious kind of secret smile. Slow conversations carried me into the afternoon where I ironed my dress carefully, ensuring all its corners were crisp and clean.

The florist delivered my bouquet.

The cake was delivered when I was in the shower, then I plopped my contacts in and dusted my face with faint, light make-up. I put the dress on and looked in the mirror - it was a kind of surreal glee. I stood looking at myself, feeling no nerves, no doubts...just an overwhelming sense of determination. I had found the one. And I had taken the means I'd been blessed with, and was marrying him. It seemed to be the most logical and easy decision I had ever made. I pinned my hijab in place.

With my loud and high heels, I clanked my way to the car, ensuring that my dress stayed pristine until the wedding. We drove by the sea on the way to the mosque; there was a cool breeze, and I was chewing gum, smiling, and joking as though I was on a regular day-errand. We arrived on time and I quickly scuttled in, making sure that he didn't see me in my dress before the ceremony.

I waited with my family in the women's prayer area, greeting guests and replying to the ocean of mabrooks being talked into my ears. My tongue wasn't tied.

After we prayed isha, I made my way up to the balcony of the mosque to have a clear view of the whole ceremony. For some reason, I was the last to get up there and the women had crowded the viewing areas. With my serene psychological forces, I willed them to part and I stood looking into the crowd of men and seeing my friend who was about to become my husband.

He signed and fingerprinted our marriage contract, and then I did. My writing was wobbly and lopsided, but my name was clear - I agree said my ink-stained thumb. And I watched as my father said the words that officially gave me away to my husband. Suddenly I was wrapped in the arms of women I knew and loved, and women I had just met for the first time. They were inexplicably happy, there were tears. I glanced down at the men's section and tried to scan the crowded room for the guy, but he was lost somewhere in the the arms of some friend or relative.

I felt the same as before. Happy, calm, sure of myself. Nothing seemed to have changed.

My husband escaped and made his way to the women's section to exchange rings with me. His face was bright and filled with an innocent bewilderment as he took my hand and kissed my forehead (to the soundtrack of giggling women). My cheeks were flushed, but it all seemed as though it was the most natural sequence of events. As though I knew beforehand that this was all going to happen this way.

There were chocolates and drinks passed around. I didn't taste them. My husband saved a chocolate for me to eat later, but my brother got to it first. And that was okay.

We linked arms and made our way out of the mosque to be greeted by a crowd of happy faces, confetti and hand-held fireworks. My husband's friends ambushed him and threw him up into the air a few times for good measure. I looked on in amazement and kept stealing glances at this man who was now suddenly my closest partner in life. I smiled because I absolutely knew he was the right ally to make.

After snapping some photos, he took my by the hand and led me from the festivities to his friend's car to drive us away.

Between the smiles and careful, treasured first words, I quietly said alhamdulillah and I knew that I would never be surprised by anything beautiful that God allows me to have in my life, because He was the only one capable of bringing two people from different parts of the globe together - people who didn't know about each other just a year before, people who weren't even interested in this thing called love anymore, people who had surrendered themselves to the harshness of disappointment.

But God is Al-Fattah, The Opener of doors, opportunities, chances at regaining piety, forgiveness, love. And nothing more remains for me except to thank Him every day for making what seemed to be so hard at first, so so easy and wonderful and full of immense beauty and contentment.

And now I get why people say getting married is the best day of your life. It's true. Alhamdulillah.