Coleman grew up in Steamboat — mountain-raised, local through and through. Shannon grew up in Philadelphia — loyal, opinionated, and not afraid to say when she’s hungry. Our paths didn’t start anywhere near each other. Shannon moved around for years trying to find where she belonged, navigating life, motherhood, and figuring out how to raise Jackson in paradise. Steamboat eventually became the place where she stopped running, built her own space, and decided she was absolutely not looking for anything serious. At the same time, Coleman was very much in his own chapter of life — young, curious, and chasing snow. He was adventuring, traveling, and building his culinary career one kitchen at a time, learning his craft, finding his rhythm, and saying yes to experiences that shaped who he was becoming. While Shannon was putting down roots, Coleman was out in the world collecting stories — and somehow, those two very different paths were quietly lining up. Then came a night out. Encouraged by a coworker (now best friend and partially responsible for everything), Shannon ended up at the closing day party for T Bar. She was starving. The kitchen was closed. The vibe was hanging by a thread because of her Philly attitude. Coleman saw his moment. A closed kitchen wasn’t going to stop him. He made a peanut butter and jelly like it was a five-star chef’s special and refused to let the night end there. And… he won. There was a kiss — and despite all logic, deep down Shannon was very excited about it. That kiss turned out to be the beginning of something real. What followed wasn’t rushed. We spent months hanging out, getting to know each other, and very intentionally testing the waters. Jackson was already a part of the picture, and that mattered. Slowly and thoughtfully, we started blending a family. Life picked up speed after that. We built a home, survived the chaos of the world, welcomed Cruse into it together during COVID, and learned how to balance love, parenting, work, and each other. There were trials, growing pains, and plenty of moments that tested us but also a lot of laughter, adventure, and joy. We traveled, chased music, danced at festivals, and remembered how to be kids together while building something solid and meaningful. Somewhere between bedtime routines and late-night conversations, we realized we weren’t just partners — we were a team. Then came Boston. At a Pretty Lights concert (one of our all-time favorites), Coleman asked Shannon to marry him. He had secretly written to the band’s manager to see if they would play a specific song. They didn’t — but somehow the universe still showed up. The band, the lasers, the lights, the entire night glowing in purple and green — Shannon’s favorite colors — felt like a wink from the crowd and the band itself, the music, and maybe something bigger. And now we are here. This celebration isn’t just about one day. It’s about a life built through love, patience, laughter, peanut butter and jelly, loud music, family, and choosing each other again and again. If you’re here, you’re part of that story — and we’re so grateful to share it with you.