Mountain Melodies Therapy was founded in 2021 in the mountains of Fraser Valley shortly after I (Pamela) received my board-certification for music therapy. And while I was the face of this music therapy practice, Alfredo was always in the background cheering me on despite the many headaches of learning to be a small business owner while also being transient seasonal workers. There were many times I wanted to give up the whole thing, but Alfredo was always there helping me solve whatever problem or crisis had come up for the day. On October 11, 2026 Alfredo and I legally became married, and now Alfredo is not only a part owner by name, but also by law. I would not want it any other way. Alfredo brings in the administrative business skills that I often overlook, and grounds me when I need to take a step back to solve the next problem I face as my therapy practice grows. We have both put in so much to building this therapy practice, and I am so grateful for the many ways in which Alfredo supports me in growing as a music therapist and business owner. And he continues to support me in more ways than one as I prepare to earn my master’s degree in clinical mental health counseling to expand my scope of practice while continuing to work full time as a transient seasonal worker.
One of the most important parts of our wedding day were our vows to each other. We have both decided that they would like these vows to be made public, as our vows emulate the core values on which Mountain Melodies Therapy was founded:
- The belief that we should always approach each other with love, kindness, curiosity, and empathy
- That we can learn from our mistakes and unhealthy beliefs about ourselves and others
- That our differences do not make us less than, but enrich us in a way that diversifies our perception of the world and ourselves
- True, selfless love heals all wounds.
These words are verbatim of what we said to each other at the alter on our wedding day, and we did not tell each other anything about what we were writing. We did both keep in mind that while our vows were to each other, there were 180 friends and family listening, and we had them in mind too.
Much like our marriage, it is truly beautiful to see how much our vows compliment each other with our own unique voices, identities, and perceptions of the world shining through. We hope you enjoy reading our vows as much as we have enjoyed writing them and saying them to each other the day we entered our covenant of marriage.
Much love,
Pam
Alfredo’s Vows
Pam,
There are 8.3 billion people in the world and somehow I’m the lucky one that gets the honor to stand up here with you and make this covenant between us in front of our families, our friends and God.
When I met you I was a broken person. I was leading a life with no direction, just bouncing around from place to place, job to job and home to home. I met lots of people and dated but my life just felt so unsecure. I felt like I had no roots. So I started the process that most burned out and beatdown guides do. I moved to Fort Collins for the winter in search of a career to start transitioning out of the seasonal guiding lifestyle that I love and work on making a creating a more stable life.
And then you came along. I saw your bumble profile and, of course, the picture of you guiding stood out immediately. We met up for coffee and I was nervous. One: because I was about to meet this cute river girl for the first time and Two: because I hadn’t updated my profile picture in like 6 years and my hair had gone from inch long curls to 10 inch dreadlocks. Once we settled in we started to get to know each other and I got to know all about how you’re this amazing music therapist with innovative ideas of collaborating with all types of professions to reach as many people as you could. Your job was spending time with people with disabilities and taking them around town to do literally whatever it was they wanted to do that day, which spanned from playing music on the corner, going to the thrift store to shop to going and hanging out at the library. We started talking and of course I did what every river guide would do and invited you to come down to the gorge at cut-off.
Not long after that we made moves to where you would come work at Echo on the Gorge and we spent winters in Winter Park. We had our tough times but we got through them. And then you taught me how to Ski. I knew we were doing well in our relationship when people were like “you don’t learn how to ski from you’re partner” and yet, we were just fine. You took the time to hang out with me on the greens and not ditch me to go do bigger things with your other friends. That patience you showed me then and before means so much more to me than you’ll ever know. Being exclusively included felt unbelievable. To be able to feel vulnerable without judgement was relieving.
You worked for the NSCD and Adam’s camp. One thing that has always stood out to me was your dedication to those with disabilities and empowering them to be more than what they think they can be. You’re a life changer. You strive to inspire the lives of families, students and those around you with the work you do.
Most importantly, you do all of this in the name of God. Your faith is amazing. And the way you show it is how Jesus taught us to. You learn, you study, you give, you teach, you forgive and bring others in with your light. You have taught and inspired me and renewed my faith in followers of Jesus and Jesus himself.
There are many peer reviewed studies out there that many men with good relationships with their mothers tend to unconsciously gravitate to someone like that. In my case, I couldn’t agree more. You’ve shown me what I was looking for in my partner that I couldn’t put into words before because I had forgotten what those feelings were and what they felt like. You’re caring towards others, you’re selfless beyond belief, you see the good in everyone you meet, you look out for those less fortunate, you always make sure that the people around you feel loved and included, you protect, you laugh loud and you feel deeply. With you I finally feel grounded. I have been blessed to find a person that has filled in this immense missing part of my soul that formed 14 years ago. I found what I was missing. It wasn’t a place but rather a person to call home. One of my favorite bands called “Say Anything” wrote a song and it describes the feeling that you give me and it’s the same feeling that my Mom and her memory gives me. Those words are: “You’re what keeps me believing that this world’s not gone dead. Strength in my bones and put the words in my head”
Some might find it silly that I’m making guiding as such a big part of my vows but that’s who I am. Through and through, I’m a river guide. My love for guiding doesn’t just come from the money (obviously), the tips, the parties or the friends. It comes from the lessons I’ve learned from the relationships I build.
First, there’s the whole teaching someone to be a guide and learning to guide. I’ve been doing this for a longtime and I like to think that I’m pretty good at it and I feel people that know me would agree. And there are many others who share the same experience. But what has led me to where I’m at today was not just all me. It was taking the time to learn from those who were and are willing to teach me. Not only teach me the right lines but also the wrong ones and the consequences they’ve had to deal with. Why would they teach me about the times things went awry? To keep me from making the same mistakes and to do what they can to keep my boat out of harms way. Does it always work? Nah. But luckily they also shared how to correct my wrongs and how to work as hard as I can to fix them. Will my guests be happy with me in the end? Not always but the point is that I did my job to my best ability.
Now, as a career guide, I’m in the teaching position. My goal is simple: Pass on the institutional knowledge that I have while also passing on the skills and tips I’ve gathered along the way. My hope is that it will lead to new guides being better than me in a much sooner time as long as they are willing to learn.
Then there are the highest of highs and the lowest of lows and the community that comes with it. My river guides understand that high of running the perfect highwater line and celebrating with each other. The feeling when it all went right. Our community really knows how to treasure those moments.
But then there are the lows. I have been around for the some of the lowest of lows in both of our communities. Losses and injuries. The one thing I’ve learned is how much bearable these lows can be when the community around you is willing to take its time to support you. Whether it’s bringing you food, taking the time to reteach you after an injury and even just getting back into a van and hearing the words “I’m proud of you” after one of the worst days a guide could have. At the end of the day, it’s the community like this that keep us moving forward and pushing to continue on.
Last, but not least, there’s the work. Nothing, especially in our fields, comes easy. Our field is mixed with heavy physical exertion, teamwork and the issues that come with it, overcoming fear, checking our egos and problem solving. It takes a lot of time, mistakes and energy to get it right and to get proficient.
Pam, I promise to continue to learn from you and grow. I promise to look at the mistakes I make, own them, and do my best to work through them with you. I promise to use the things that I’ve learned to help our relationship grow even more and prosper. I promise to be there for you, not only for our lows but also to remember to take the time to celebrate our highs. I promise to take care of you just how you did when I couldn’t take care of myself. I promise to put in the work that it takes to live as a married couple. And of course, when we decide to have a family, whatever that may look like, I promise to guide it and to pass on all I’ve learned so that our family will be able to better navigate the hardships of this world. And, most of all, I promise to do these things with Jesus leading us all. I Love you.
Pamela’s Vows
Alfredo,
The first time I had met you in person in that coffee shop in Old Town, Fort Collins, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. It certainly wasn’t to have an extensive conversation the Cambrian Explosion. But what has stood the test of time in my memory, is on that date you could have chosen to talk about the many cool things that you had done up to that point, like being a river guide for 7 years, or being a cheerleader in college, or playing football in college, or being in a punk band in high school, or winning an all state choir competition. That is what the guys before you wanted to talk about on first dates, and they didn’t do nearly as many cool things as you had done. Instead, you wanted to talk about dinosaurs, and ask me questions about earning my degree in music therapy. Instead of talking about yourself, you wanted to know the deepest reason as to why I was in Fort Collins in the first place when we first matched on Bumble. Even though I was wildly attracted to you (dreads included!), I did not know yet that you would become my ‘ezer (עזר) kenegdo (כנגדו).
I have always loved stories. And I attribute that love to my dad. One of my earliest memories is Dad reading us a story that began with a hole in the ground, and a creature called a hobbit. Through learning about magic rings, wizards, elves, dwarves, and dragons, Dad taught me at a very young age that a good story is one that you want to read or listen to again and again because you will find something new every time the story is revisited. And this is why I love authors like C.S. Lewis, Tolkien, and ancient Hebrew writers. In the words of Samwise Gamgee, Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I have found that as you get older and read it again, you come to realize that while you understand more of the story, there are still things you don’t fully understand, so you read it again.
Which brings me back to ‘ezer (עזר) kenegdo (כנגדו). This is a phrase that appears in the ancient Hebrew creation narrative. In the second Genesis account, after The Creator made the human, He declared it was not good for the human to be alone, so the Creator made an ‘ezer (עזר) kenegdo (כנגדו).
For the sake of time, I won’t subject our friends and family down one of my rabbit holes, so let’s just say that to the best of my understanding, kenegdo (כנגדו) here means something that is wholly different, but entirely equal. Aside from the obvious of just looking at us, there are many things that are different between you and I. You know the purpose of all the weird cooking utensils my aunts gave me at my bridal shower; I clogged the garbage disposal with potato peels (which you patiently fixed). You know how to replace the entire starting system of my Ford Expedition in a parking lot, all I can tell you is the car won’t start. I could spend days alone reading my books, you get antsy when you are between jobs and not working with your hands. You look at life one day, one step at a time, while I will set my mind on massive future goals. I lived off Midwestern casseroles and sweetcorn, you taught me that there are more spices than salt and pepper. And those are just a few examples of our many differences. In terms of equality, you have always treated me as your equal. When there was something about rafting, or cooking, that I don’t understand, you explain it to me in a way that is never condescending. You never make a big decision, or really any decision, without asking my opinion on the matter first. When you wanted to learn how to ski, you took my advice to heart instead of rolling your eyes at pointers I had for you. So, we are very different, but entirely equal, we’re kenegdo (כנגדו)
So now let’s talk about ‘ezer (עזר). The most common English translation of ‘ezer (עזר) is “helper,” but I’m not sure if that English word quite captures the meaning of this story. The Hebrew word ezer (עזר) shows up 15 other times in the Hebrew Bible, and I don’t have time to quote them all, but my favorite one is Psalm 121,
I lift my eyes toward the mountains.
Where will my ‘ezer (עזר) come from?
My ‘ezer (עזר) comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth
One of my favorite scholars puts it this way, “‘ezer (עזר) does not mean assistant. It describes someone who plays the role of the indispensable other without whom the desired good cannot happen.” It was not good that the human was alone, so this ‘ezer (עזר) was the solution.
Which brings me back to our story. When we met in that coffee shop, I was performing for you. I wanted you to see that I was a confident, ambitious, adventurous, unstoppable 22-year-old woman, not the scared, confused, incredibly burnt-out undergraduate student trying to make sense of the world. That December, you met a façade of mine. My purpose in the world, my direction for my career, who God is, and what that God is in relation to my life were still all mysteries to me, and that left me feeling very anxious and often alone. If I were truly vulnerable to you, if you saw the deepest part of my soul, my vulnerabilities, my beliefs, my doubts, my biggest dreams and aspirations, would you still want to be with me? Or would you reject me?
The answer came throughout the next few years with the tangible ways in which you loved me, and how your differences brought me so much healing in the way I saw the world. When I wanted a place at our camper to escape the sun, you spent a week after working long hours building me a sturdy palapa for my fragile skin, where I would spend every morning before raft trips sipping my coffee and reading my Bible. When I followed my heart down the path of career opportunities that did not entirely make sense, you encouraged me and worked extra hours to support these ambitions. When I was overwhelmed with my big dreams and goals, you taught me that it is ok to take a step back to rest, and that goals should be broken down to one day, one step at time. And you would always help me with those steps, whether it was spending a whole day picking me up in my sit ski, or helping me design my music therapy website, or talking me through the hydraulics of a rapid without being condescending, or giving me a new perspective on a business proposal (even if I didn’t always want to hear it). And you would celebrate those small gains when I would brush them off, making me realize I could stop and celebrate my wins too. When I was overwhelmed with life, it was you that would cook me a comfort meal to make me feel better. When I had questions about my beliefs, you would listen without judgement and share with me your own thoughts on the matter, which has brought me a more fulfilling relationship with God. And that relationship with God has opened a world of wonder, comfort, and imagination that brought me back to the childhood wonder I experienced when first learning about hobbits.
That same scholar I quoted earlier also talks about the cosmic implication of the covenant you and I are entering today. He talks about how the point of human marriage is that this is a training ground for you and I to fully love another person the way we love ourselves, especially in light of that person’s differences. And in many ways, we have been training in this from the time we have known each other. It was never easy, but as Dad always taught me the best things in life never are. I learned that loving another person means also loving the wounded parts of them and the defenses that come with it, which we have both been the giver and recipient of this type of patience and forgiveness. However, learning to be fully vulnerable with you, to the point of feeling absolutely naked, was probably the hardest part for me. The façade you met in Fort Collins was there because I was ashamed of the nakedness of my raw emotions, and fearful of the rejection that could happen when those emotions were shown to others.
It was you that taught me that shedding tears is not a form of weakness, but in reality, it is a byproduct of caring passionately about something. When I felt alone and without a community, it was you that told me my community, my people, are there if I stopped paying attention to the times I was rejected and allowed my authentic self to show to the people that truly wanted to know the real me. Once I learned that shedding the façade opened up a world of nakedness without feeling shame, my eyes were opened not only to unconditional love you gave me, but to the many people that are here today that loved me in some of my most vulnerable times in my life. The friends and family with us today taught me so much about love, but it was you that taught me what it means to accept that love with open arms, that I do not have to solve all of life’s problems on my own, that there are many people throughout so many phases in my life that have always cared, and that I do not need to hide my aspirations, dreams, fears, and raw emotions in shame.
Alfredo, you are my ‘ezer (עזר) kenegdo (כנגדו), my “delivering ally.” Just like the ‘ezer (עזר) kenegdo (כנגדו) in the Genesis account, you not only taught me that I am worthy of love with all the quirks, the strengths, and the weakness that make me Pam, you also taught me that I am not alone in this life. Through that realization you opened my eyes to the diverse number of other humans in our communities that love me too for exactly who I am, without the façade. So today, as we enter this lifelong covenant bond together, I promise that for as long as I live, I will also love you as my literal other half along with all the vulnerabilities and differences that make you my covenant partner, the way you have loved me through my vulnerabilities and differences. You are the most caring, selfless, hard-working, considerate man I have ever met. There is no one else in the world that I would rather enter this covenant than you, and no one else that I would want to spend a lifetime learning every day what it means to unconditionally love another person.
