this place is not a state but a process

day 39

they were wedded and it was beautiful.

i heard the start of hoppipolla play through the loudspeakers as i set foot on the wedding venue's spread of green lawn. i thought of how i made him promise he'd play it when i left. i paused, looked ahead. the bride sat crosslegged on the grass next to redheaded pigtails on a freckled face while boys in suits played bocce at the other end of the lawn. i bent down to take a picture - a desperate attempt to pocket just how big the moment felt. - then i turned to stare at the rest of them, and not my idea of them, but them, held in all white chairs, circled around a pile of kids. i closed my eyes, felt a familiar pain in my chest sink to my knees, and smiled. 
that was it. memory's tainted cloud lightened, an answer. as if permission was granted to experience happy things.
when i [ask]...i get no answer. but a rather special sort of no answer. it is not the locked door, but more like a silent, compassionate gaze. as though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. like, 'peace, child; you don't understand.'
--a grief observed (c.s. lewis)
i told him, i just had the most emotional moment of my life.
he laughed. with me, i think. i didn't need to say anything else.