Don't believe in modern love...

I’m sure I’m not the only one to have struggled to make awkward small talk with strangers or waited hungrily for the end of interminable speeches. But, even so, I really do love a wedding. There are so few occasions nowadays when we spend this time, effort, and energy on celebrating other people. And so I love weddings; the spectacle, the joy, and the optimism. Maybe it stems from consuming too many Jane Austen books as a young reader. Perhaps it’s the many romance books I’ve read since. Either way, I’m a sucker for a love story.

My husband and I were married in March 2012 and our wedding was perfect. Well, I say that, but my wonderful father-in-law passed away in the November and so there could be no way that the day felt right. There was an absence where he should have been; clapping my husband on the arm, making the family pose for just one more photo, making sure that everything ran to time. And, yet, there were still moments of joy. Like life itself, it was a slightly messy day; good, sad, weird, funny, and happy, so very happy.

***

I remember the taxi ride to the registry office with my mum, dad and sister. In particular, us nearly colliding as the black cab swung round the wide corner at the bottom of the Mound. There’s a photo of me applying mascara as we turned on to the High Street that my sister must have taken. We’d all been up early and had lots of time before the taxi came, but I just hadn’t given any thought to make-up.

I remember my granny gripping my hand in hers and kissing me on the cheek. Her skin like soft paper.

I remember my husband and I looking at each other in horror as we sat with the celebrant in an anteroom before the ceremony and she asked us which track we wanted played as we walked down the aisle. We’d put together a CD of some of our favourite songs and they were, uh, diverse. We hadn’t realised we were supposed to choose a specific song. It was all music we thought was great, but who wants to walk down the aisle to 99 Red Balloons? Actually, that would have been great. As it was, she picked one she said sounded appropriate and it was Bowie’s Modern Love. Perfect.

I remember walking down the aisle. We’d decided that we would give each other away and so we walked each other down the aisle, arm in arm. Somehow, we travelled the length of the room in what felt like only a second or two.

Almost before I knew it, we were married and my stepson was in my arms, telling me he needed a snack because he was so hungry, the most hungry ever, ever.

I remember the absolute joy of looking around our favourite restaurant and seeing the tables crowded with only our loved ones. The air was full of happy chatter and I was filled with the glow of watching people I love, heads together, talking and making each other laugh.

I remember the children tiring and my niece sleeping on a pile of coats. My brand-new stepson had cheeks flushed bright red, but insisted he wasn’t tired. He sat on my knee for ages, proudly showing me the photos he’d taken on his kidizoom camera.

I remember when lunch turned to drinks and drinks turned to a chance Vegas night at a club. I was furious for at least three minutes that, despite wearing a wedding dress and having jewels in my hair, I was by no stretch the best-dressed person in the club.

I remember chips on the way home and my grubby dress trailing in the dirty streets. Tired, happy, and hand-in-hand with my new husband, the best man I have ever known.

***

When I think about our wedding, I think about the friends and family that we spent the day with. Some of them are no longer with us, and others have arrived in the years since our wedding. The notion of loved ones is an elastic one: there are points when the circle seems to shrink, but it expands infinitely as others come into our lives: babies, new partners, precious new friends.

Would we do anything differently if we had the day again? Definitely. We forgot to invite loved ones; we didn’t organise a cake; we didn’t have a photographer. Looking back at photographs, my husband declares he doesn’t like his suit. He’s a man that takes pride in his appearance and so, if we ever decide to renew our vows, it’ll be because he has an outfit in mind.

As wonderful and momentous as it may be, a wedding is just a single day. Our wedding was a great day, perfect in all its imperfection. The marriage itself has been the best decision I ever made and reader, I’d marry him again any day.