Touching accounts about the historic weddings just keep pouring in.

From one of the volunteer helpers:

People wore sweats, hiking gear, jeans, tuxedos, elaborate wedding gowns. I saw several lesbian couples in matching gowns from their commitment ceremonies. One woman wore a plain white dress with a gorgeous black lace overdress. Another girl was wearing a sleeveless wedding dress that had been made for a taller woman. A gay man in line behind her was stitching the shoulder seams so it fit her better. She and her bride were radiant in white. The two grooms in line behind them looked dashing in matching orange shirts.

Doctors. Construction workers. Programmers. Attorneys. Carpenters. A handsome Black man, a Baptist preacher and therapist, with his older white partner.

...

Butch couples in crew cuts and tuxedoes, bears from the International Bear Association convention down the street. Dykes in softball uniforms ("that's how we met"). Nursing mothers baring a nipple to feed jiggling infants. One baby wore white shoes with rosebuds -- well, one white shoe. She pulled the other one off and tossed it into the crowd.

"We're really family, aren't we?"

Yes, everyone in line today -- all the old ladies, the new babies, the volunteers, the handsome young men holding hands -- we all were one family, and we loved each other.

This one, told from the perspective of a straight guy whose own more conventional wedding will be occurring soon, was quite profound.

What I saw there that day blew me away. The sheer joy of those couples, descending the City Hall steps. The long-craved acceptance, now finally granted. The boundless optimism and hope that comes with being granted true equality. And the ecstatic feeling of love that flowed from that place. It was overwhelming.

...

This is not about gay rights, [a man getting married] was saying, this is about equality. This is about human rights.

He didn't know it, but behind the camera, just out of sight, was a straight guy wiping tears out of his eyes.

Suddenly all my wedding planning stress was gone. And in its place was this feeling of gratitude. I'm so lucky to have found Heather. And so happy that I can marry her without anyone standing in my way -- not our family, not the state, not the president.

Everyone should be as fortunate as me.

Having played the role of best man in a wedding not too long ago, I can attest to the idea that weddings can be very inspiring events. I can only imagine from these second hand accounts what it must have been like to witness hundreds of them in such a short timespan, with the added intensity that many of these relationships had been pent-up for years, or even decades.

These weddings are not an "assault" on the institution of marriage. They are the exact opposite. They stand as an affirmation to the power of love, declared in public. A love powerful enough to motivate a statement of commitment that can be witnessed by all. Is that not what marriage in its ideal form is all about?

Even those of us who aren't generally that big on this whole "marriage" thing can thank San Francisco for inspiring us to remember what true marriage, in the best sense of the word, really means.