A choir sang in the background. The sun’s rays pierced through the stained glass, but the colors subdued it, making the light glow instead of blind. Even with the prisms of color, the air reminded me of amber again, the smoky smell of burning candles drifting. I was brought back to that cold day in December, when I had asked for things I needed.
One look at the man waiting for me, and I knew every prayer had been answered.
He would be all I ever wanted. All I ever needed.
The amber was not towarnme, but towarmme.
With each step that I took, with every step I had always taken, I came closer and closer to him. But I had to pass through different levels of light as I did. Brightness that blinded. Darkness that made me narrow my eyes to see better. Then there were the areas that glowed from the prisms. They were absolutely heavenly, soothing in a way that was difficult to describe.
I would forever remember this day, the sound of my footsteps, of the journey, to help me balance the light and the darkness life would bring, asmammahad said. I would always remember that each step I took, one foot in front of the other, would always lead me to love.
One step. Another.
Corrado Alessandro Capitani stepped toward me.
We met in the glow.
I blinked up at him. He grinned at me.
“Angel eyes,” he whispered.
Papàtook my hand and placed it in Corrado’s, and afterpapàtold the church he would be giving this woman to this man, we walked together, footsteps in sync, meetingPadreGreco at the altar.
The service was in Italian, and Corrado had practiced his vows. He spoke them perfectly, each word understood, each word loud enough that the entire congregation heard his promises.
“Io, Corrado Alessandro Capitani, prendo te, Alcina Maria Parisi, come mia sposa e prometto di esserti fedele sempre, nella gioia e nel dolore, nella salute e nella malattia, e di amarti e onorarti tutti i giorni della mia vita.”
I did the same.
“Io, Alcina Maria Parisi, prendo te, Corrado Alessandro Capitani, come mio sposo e prometto di esserti fedele sempre, nella gioia e nel dolore, nella salute e nella malattia, e di amarti e onorarti tutti i giorni della mia vita.”
BeforePadreGreco announced us as husband and wife, Corrado cleared his throat.“Ho trovato qualcosa per cui vale la pena morire.”
I stared at him, the amber in the air moving around him like smoke, and cleared my throat.“Ho vissuto per te, anche quando non sapevo che esistessi.”
I have found something worth dying for.
I lived for you, even when I didn't know you existed.
PadreGreco announced us as husband and wife. Then he told Corrado that he may kiss his bride.
Mio marito—my husband—placed his hands on each side of my face, his touch warm and firm, his thumbs skimming the corner of my mouth, and leaning in, he kissed me in heaven, creating something sacred between the two of us.
* * *
The air was stillhot as we walked arm-in-arm toward my grandparents’casa.Famigliaandamicifollowed behind us—their laughter and animated conversations reflecting all that I felt.
I had never seen the look Corrado wore on his face before. “What are you thinking?” I whispered as he helped me down a particularly steep slope of road. Our village twisted and turned with the shape of the terrain, molded by the hands of it.
“Many things,” he said, the light hitting his eyes and turning the hard amber into dark honey. “But they all revolve around one central point. You.I miei occhi d'angelo.”My angel eyes.
I smiled at him, and he kissed me. Rowdy applause broke us apart but did not steal the smile from my face. Nothing could. I laughed against his mouth and continued to laugh throughout the entire evening.
We had only had a few days to plan, but what we did in those days turned out to be spectacular. Like the dress, I wanted a sense of tradition mixed in with a dash of modernity. Our roots and our extending branches. Where Corrado and I had come from and where we were headed. Twenty-four hours that would stand the test of time.
Our reception was held at my grandparents’casa, but it was usually traditional for the reception to be held on the street where the bride lives. Since we needed more space than what my parents’casahad, and my grandparents’ place was in a more rural area, we decided to have it there.
Mammaalong with numerous members of ourfamigliacame together and cooked their famousragùto serve with pasta. Tables were lined with homemade cookies and liquor. Two of my uncles played the mandolin and thefisarmonica. Some guests had already started to dance.
