I was a bridesmaid this weekend for my sister in law; it was an absolute honour and privilege. My first and sweetest time and probably my last since I'm of an age now where all my friends in the market to be wed have already done so, while the rest are divorced with no desire to walk that plank again and the remainder have sworn life long allegiance to spinsterhood driven (so they tell me) by the fact that the best men are either taken or gay.
Back to the wedding in hand. It was a grand affair to say the least, the grandest I've ever attended, with well over 200 guests. Well over. There was enough food to feed a banana republic and more love filled positive energy than a weekend at the Dalai Lama's.
The blushing bride wore the gown of her dreams and couldn't get down the aisle fast enough. Not a tear or tremble. I've never seen anyone more determined to marry than this girl. Long may that sentiment reign. The groom played his part well but blink and you would have missed it. Still, these affairs as we all know are for the bride, by the bride, of the bride. And why not?
For me the best part of the day started early but I wouldn't have missed it for any sleep in -as delightful as a sleep in would have been: I refer to the 'girlie' stuff and I'm not ashamed to say it. The girls in the wedding party met at a salon...ooh too early to say to get their faces put on and hair ruffled into shape. Two hours of champagne filled fun later - eight stunners sashayed out.
The day got progressively better, as sleep continued to fall from our now well defined eyes as we climbed into our respective frocks. The best was yet to come three times over and it started with the limo bus - a great idea to ferry the wedding party from place to place without fuss but lots of ceremony.
The sun now shining bright - both temperature and humidity rising, this was an oasis of cool, the font of all things alcopop and the brasserie on wheels for the hungry - there was no better place to be. Best of all was the atmosphere of friendship and heartfelt emotion between friends and soulmates. Tears of love and laughter filled this heartshaped box and I felt truly blessed to have been invited into this sisterhood - even if just for one day.
But soon thoughts strayed to my own friends back in the UK, the ones I never get to see anymore since moving to Canada; The girls who've carried me through the brightest and darkest hour - whose intimate understanding and loyalty have helped me laugh, cry and grow. It was at this time, I thought of them. Nostalgia preceded a black mood that would stay with me for the rest of the day- thankfully deep enough to hide from the guests, especially the guests of honour but to me as obvious as a hole in the chest. Still, this day wasn't about me and I needed to remember that.
Wedding vows taken, it was time to party and I was more than ready to celebrate the new couple, sincerely but as Sod's Law would have it, the flower girl passed out just as dinner was being served. As the flower girl's mum and bridesmaid duties more or less done, I was left with the unsavoury task of spending the rest of the evening in the hotel room with a slumbering 3 year old - bless her cotton socks. I could hardly expect the bride's brother (my husband) or the parents of the bride to miss out.
Such is life, that I didn't get to party that night unless you call horizontally washing a piece of delicious beef down with a rye & coke fun and actually when I put it that way...it could have been much worse.
Thoughts turning to the UK again and unable to concentrate on the French New Wave film on TCM (it starred the tragic actress Jean Seaberg - just what a dark mood needed...), I wondered how much more I would have to take? When would enough be enough? How long would this feeling of homesickness last? What if it never really ends? but most of all will it have all been worth it?
Difficult as it was to admit, I realised that I am the only one who can assign this kind of worth but it means I also have to buy into this life here, drink the Canada Kool Aid and tow the party line like I mean it - and that requires me to let go of the past, start living for today and stop making those comparisons. Question is -is this a realistic ask? buggered if I know.
Back to the wedding in hand. It was a grand affair to say the least, the grandest I've ever attended, with well over 200 guests. Well over. There was enough food to feed a banana republic and more love filled positive energy than a weekend at the Dalai Lama's.
The blushing bride wore the gown of her dreams and couldn't get down the aisle fast enough. Not a tear or tremble. I've never seen anyone more determined to marry than this girl. Long may that sentiment reign. The groom played his part well but blink and you would have missed it. Still, these affairs as we all know are for the bride, by the bride, of the bride. And why not?
For me the best part of the day started early but I wouldn't have missed it for any sleep in -as delightful as a sleep in would have been: I refer to the 'girlie' stuff and I'm not ashamed to say it. The girls in the wedding party met at a salon...ooh too early to say to get their faces put on and hair ruffled into shape. Two hours of champagne filled fun later - eight stunners sashayed out.
The day got progressively better, as sleep continued to fall from our now well defined eyes as we climbed into our respective frocks. The best was yet to come three times over and it started with the limo bus - a great idea to ferry the wedding party from place to place without fuss but lots of ceremony.
The sun now shining bright - both temperature and humidity rising, this was an oasis of cool, the font of all things alcopop and the brasserie on wheels for the hungry - there was no better place to be. Best of all was the atmosphere of friendship and heartfelt emotion between friends and soulmates. Tears of love and laughter filled this heartshaped box and I felt truly blessed to have been invited into this sisterhood - even if just for one day.
But soon thoughts strayed to my own friends back in the UK, the ones I never get to see anymore since moving to Canada; The girls who've carried me through the brightest and darkest hour - whose intimate understanding and loyalty have helped me laugh, cry and grow. It was at this time, I thought of them. Nostalgia preceded a black mood that would stay with me for the rest of the day- thankfully deep enough to hide from the guests, especially the guests of honour but to me as obvious as a hole in the chest. Still, this day wasn't about me and I needed to remember that.
Wedding vows taken, it was time to party and I was more than ready to celebrate the new couple, sincerely but as Sod's Law would have it, the flower girl passed out just as dinner was being served. As the flower girl's mum and bridesmaid duties more or less done, I was left with the unsavoury task of spending the rest of the evening in the hotel room with a slumbering 3 year old - bless her cotton socks. I could hardly expect the bride's brother (my husband) or the parents of the bride to miss out.
Such is life, that I didn't get to party that night unless you call horizontally washing a piece of delicious beef down with a rye & coke fun and actually when I put it that way...it could have been much worse.
Thoughts turning to the UK again and unable to concentrate on the French New Wave film on TCM (it starred the tragic actress Jean Seaberg - just what a dark mood needed...), I wondered how much more I would have to take? When would enough be enough? How long would this feeling of homesickness last? What if it never really ends? but most of all will it have all been worth it?
Difficult as it was to admit, I realised that I am the only one who can assign this kind of worth but it means I also have to buy into this life here, drink the Canada Kool Aid and tow the party line like I mean it - and that requires me to let go of the past, start living for today and stop making those comparisons. Question is -is this a realistic ask? buggered if I know.
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