I just finished making the kinyan on the ketubah, poised for the most intense moment of my life to begin. Everything was in place for simcha–the shomrim and shomrot made sure my kallah and I never overlapped that morning. I had prepared my davening, glided through the tisch, and stood flanked by my parents ready to see my Kallah at the Bedeken. My parents supported me as I walked out to greet her, but it was Pey Dalid’s music that kept me elevated while I turned white as a sheet during the Bedeken. They continued to make the simcha come alive as my Kallah, myself, the m’seder k’dushin and our guests sat mesmerized during the sheva brachos. Afterward, when everything felt like a whirlwind, two things were clear–my Kallah and I were the happiest people in the world, and everyone rejoiced with us as hard as they could while Pey Dalid supplied the soul for our simcha.
