Some couples just hate the hoopla of a wedding and reception, but they don’t want to go to City Hall either. They want the intimacy of a tailored ceremony in a beautiful environment. This is perfectly achievable.

I met one such couple at San Francisco’s Palace of Fine Arts, near a lake with swans and ducks, bringing my friend Susan as witness and ring-bearer. By taking some nicely posed pics of them on her phone and emailing them, she also became the photographer – thanks, Susan! We stood under trees in a pool of dappled light.

The groom and bride had asked for a very brief ceremony as well. Here’s the gist of what we said, and no, I didn't use their real names:

LISA
We are gathered here today to create a wedding!
Beatrice and Dante, today you enter the next phase of your growing relationship
by declaring your love for each other
and your intention to live together for the rest of your lives.
 
Beatrice and Dante, treat yourselves and each other with respect,
and remind yourselves often of what brought you together.
Take responsibility for making one another feel safe,
and give the highest priority to the tenderness, gentleness, and kindness
that your beloved deserves.
 
Please prepare now to make your vows.
 
Dante, before you stands Beatrice, a smart, beautiful, hard-working,
and stubborn woman who will continue to grow and change.
Will you have Beatrice to be your beloved wife,
to share your life with her,
and do you pledge that you will love, honor and tenderly care for her,
in ease and adversity, and to keep your heart open to her
from this day forward?
 
DANTE
I do.
 
LISA
Beatrice, before you stands Dante, a good, kind-hearted man
who will continue to grow and change. Will you have Dante to be your beloved husband,
to share your life with him,
and do you pledge that you will love, honor, and tenderly care for him,
in ease and adversity, and to keep your heart open to him
from this day forward?
 
BEATRICE
I do.
 
LISA
Words are powerful. And to follow them, we use rings as a physical token and ever-present reminder of the words spoken here today. (rings are passed)
Dante, repeat after me:
(DANTE REPEATS EACH LINE)
Beatrice, I give you this ring
in token and pledge
of my abiding love.
With this ring, I join my life to yours.
 
Beatrice, repeat after me:
(BEATRICE REPEATS EACH LINE)
Dante, I give you this ring
in token and pledge
of my abiding love.
With this ring, I join my life to yours.
 
LISA
May the steps you have just taken toward each other help you find new strength.
May you find comfort, security, and vitality with each other.
Dante, Beatrice,
may your home be a place of happiness for all who enter it,
a place for growing, a place to come home to after traveling,
a place for good food, and friendship and laughter.
And should shadows and darkness fall within its rooms,
may it still be a place of hope and strength for you
and for those who are entrusted to your care.
I call on all of us present to witness that Beatrice and Dante,
have exchanged their promises,
and according to the laws of the State of California,
they are now husband and wife.
​You may kiss each other for the first time as a married couple.
 
The ceremony took less than ten minutes, which suited them perfectly. Small children played nearby, ducks quacked, and the newlyweds strolled off, hand in hand, toward their honeymoon.

The brides arrived at my house late in the afternoon, having picked up their Santa Clara county marriage license the day before. They were already weary after a long, hard drive from Oregon.

We sat at my kitchen table with bottles of cold water. My daughter sat with us. We scrutinized the marriage license, which was in order.

I cleared my throat. “Do you, D, take M to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

“And do you, M, take D to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

“Then, by the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you to be a legally married couple.”

We cheered and my daughter signed the certificate as a witness. I made copies and slipped the original license into its envelope.

Then we had dinner.

Before you call this wedding completely prosaic and boring, let me continue: I had been with these women six days before, at a late morning wedding under a lace canopy in one of Portland’s botanical gardens. As four closest friends held the poles of the chuppah steady, the brides washed their hands in clear water and fed each other tastes of honey. A framed and witnessed ketubah, a visual reminder of their vows to one another, stood on an easel nearby. The ceremony lasted twenty minutes, and guests beamed with joy and even wept. Vows and rings were exchanged, and that day I said, “By exchanging your private affirmations, you have pronounced yourselves to be married.”

But that wedding is not yet legal in Oregon.

Later, the mother of one of the brides remarked on the fragile hydrangea blossoms that shone like bits of lace among the dark green bushes surrounding our ceremony. There had been no sign of blooms the day before.