A Wedding on the Lake
The Quiet Ceremony That Carried Us Through a Pandemic
When discussing the pandemic, people often mention feelings of isolation, uncertainty, and canceled plans. For us, it also transformed how we became a family. During a year when the world felt heavy and uncertain, with gatherings postponed and celebrations simplified, we found ourselves on the quiet shoreline of a lake — choosing each other in the simplest, most meaningful way. I had always envisioned a wedding surrounded by many people — a moment where I’d be celebrated simply for love, not survival or overcoming challenges. The pandemic, however, took that away — no big venue, no reception, no extended family, no crowd. It stung more than I admitted. After everything I experienced — lupus, hospital stays, scares, surgeries — I longed for a moment with loved ones, a sign of acknowledgment. Instead, life gave us something quieter… and unexpectedly sacred.
One of my favorite photos from that day beautifully captures this truth. We stand under trees, with the lake behind us, dressed in clothes we found and could afford, in a world that had gone still. No decorations, no aisle runner — just soft ground, rustling leaves, and the people we cherish. The kids stood beside us, excited and nervous, holding simple bouquets and dressed as best they could. Robert’s navy suit made him look proud and steady, as always. I wore a dress, not from a boutique, but chosen with love. Everything was stripped down, yet nothing was missing.
When we exchanged vows, there was no audience, no music, no microphone — just us, sharing promises shaped by what we had already survived: hospital nights, fear, exhaustion, health uncertainties, and a world in crisis. The kids were right there, navigating the pandemic, school changes, and the emotional journey of becoming a new family. I initially thought the lack of celebration might feel like a loss, but standing there among trees, water, and loved ones who knew our whole story, I realized something crucial: this wasn’t a lesser wedding; it was a truer one.
Life doesn’t always give the moment you imagine — sometimes it offers the one you need. Our lakeside ceremony, amidst a global crisis, reminded us that love doesn’t need an audience — it just needs to be chosen repeatedly, even in tough times. In a year marked by distance, we created closeness. Amid uncertainty, we made a genuine promise. And on a quiet shoreline, with the world in chaos, our family found roots. Though small, our wedding’s meaning was profound. It marked the start of our journey as “us”.
In one of my favorite photos from that day, we’re all standing in the trees by the water — Robert in his navy suit, the kids in soft blush and white, holding simple bouquets. Nothing glamorous. Nothing staged. Just us, smiling in the kind of honest way you can only smile when you’re standing in a moment that feels right.”
