After the wedding
Sunday, March 30, 2014 at 06:11AM After the wedding, there’s this enormous relief that none of the things that could have gone wrong did. After the wedding, you realise how tightly wound you were, how you had become used to almost constant headaches and not as much sleep as you need. After the wedding, all you have to do is bask in memories that, with luck, will last a lifetime.
After the wedding, I ask my husband what the highlight was for him, and he says, ‘Seeing all the kids, standing up there together, looking so beautiful and so happy and being there for each other’. Or words to that effect.
I got even more of an eyeful: almost every one of my nearest and dearest was up there. The groom and his three siblings, all in the wedding party. Facing them, the father of my children, performing the marriage. And up front for the sermon and to ask the parents if this union had their blessing, my dad, just shy of ninety, speaking as thoughtfully and eloquently as he ever has.
Dad was the rock star of the wedding– wowing the congregation with his moving sermonette, and then partying on, with my much-loved step-mum, at parts I, II and III of the wedding, reconnecting joyfully with my old school friends. More of that in a minute.
The wedding had everything a wedding should have; as uplifting and heart-warming as a good funeral. It had a great deal of hard work (how each of the kids slaved over planning and food preparation and decoration) rather than an ostentatious outlay of cash. It had tons of good, mostly home made food and drink. It had family and friends and community and God, all meshing in a great, supportive swell of love and joy and uncomplicated goodwill. It had gorgeous young people dressed to the nines in a natural kind of way. It had unpretentious worship and fine music – we even had the legendary David Bridie to sing the bride up the aisle and serenade the couple as they signed the registry – a gift to the groom (Bridie’s biggest fan) from his big sister.
In the centre of it all was the young couple, our son Paddy and his girl Allison (who feels like one of our own) who have been together nine years but still look about sixteen. The most overwhelming moment for me came when Ally walked up the aisle on her father’s arm, every bit as radiant as brides are meant to be, and I was torn between looking at her and looking at Paddy, gazing at her in wonder. As one of our mates said later of this moment, ‘Wow, he really loves her!’ As I looked from one to the other, all the emotion and tension and weariness and excitement of the last few weeks bubbled up my chest and throat in a burst of gratitude and love. I knew my face was getting wobbly; it didn’t help when I looked at one daughter and saw tears streaming down her face and the other and saw her sobbing into her bouquet.
After the church service there was a ‘high tea’ for a couple of hundred in the church hall – put together by the kids. After we had cleaned up we went to the Brunswick Green for a pint or two and then home to bed, every muscle – especially those of the face – aching.
Next morning a big pack up and down to Anglesea for Part II – a gorgeous dinner for 55 at a little restaurant in the bush behind Bellbrae. We didn’t have to do a thing for that one – just frock up and rock up and enjoy ourselves. There were fabulous speeches, including 15 minutes from the groom that had most of us laughing and crying in equal measure.
Part III took place next morning at our old shack at Anglesea where we invited everyone back for brunch. Once again, the family rolled their sleeves up and put in: Alistair on the barbeque with ten kilos of bacon and a massive carton of tomatoes, Tess producing pots of scrambled eggs and trays of baked mushrooms and haloumi, Fiona distributing endless cups of tea and coffee, Hamish scrambling around as everybody’s lackey, Al and my big sisters at the sink with their husbands, chatting companionably over mountains of dishes.
Part III happened on my 55th birthday. And there I was, in my favourite place with my almost-nonagenarian Dad, the sister who has been there for me since the day I was born, my husband who still lights me up, all the kids looking busy and happy and just, well shining with health and beauty, and almost all my closest friends. By golly I’m a wealthy woman.
Half of these are Macraes - first, second and fourth from the left, and the one on the extreme right.
Reader Comments (5)
From one mother to another : a perfect day! Bless you all!
Thank you sooooo much Clare for sharing this most wonderful family memory with those of us 1000's of miles away! xoxo to All
What a wonderful family celebration for you all. Thanks for sharing your personal thoughts in your usual amazing style which really communicates the emotion of the occasion.
Wow...what a wonderful account of a truly joyous occasion. We almost felt we were there!
Thanks for sharing a very special moment.
Arthur/Ruth Poole
Thank you! What a lovely and accurate reflection.