Weddings. Wonderful weddings.

As I recently disclosed my age here you might not be surprised to hear that weddings are something of a de rigueur event at this point in my life. Aside from their regularity, however, there has been nothing regular about them.  Since Mr G and I returned to Australia a little over a year ago we’ve had the excellent fortune to attend several spectacular weddings. (For the record they are proving somewhat restorative in repairing the deep emotional scars I still bear from missing out on THAT wedding). 

The weddings to which I have been invited were not spectacular in the Westminster Abbey and fireworks sense but were spectacularly filled with love, hope and joy. So happy and sincere that for weeks afterwards I have felt uplifted and inspired. Weddings, and brides in particular, sometimes attract cynicism and criticism. For being over the top, for being too consumed with one day, for being indulgent or showy. The list goes on. While I have no doubt there are instances where that might be true, I can happily report that from my sample study, those instances are the anomaly.

I have sat in various chapels, stood in a garden, assembled in a courtyard and perched on a haystack outside a tiny country church and watched happy couples smile, laugh and radiate newlywed bliss. Every time goose-bumps tickle my arms and tears prickle my eyes. Not because I believe a wedding is the end, or the beginning, of a fairytale. I’m old enough to know ‘happily ever after’ represents nothing more than a convenient way to end a Disney tale.  However. In my mind that doesn’t detract one iota from the fact that weddings are the most romantic and joyous of celebrations. In some ways it just reinforces everything that is romantic about deciding to marry. The very fact marriage is not one long fairytale makes getting to the aisle or the garden gazebo, having made the decision to wed one another irrespective, a significant feat.

Regardless of the history preceding the day, a wedding marks the beginning of something new. But for lots of people my age, their wedding is also a celebration of the history leading up to the day too. None of the weddings we’ve attended lately were the result of a fleeting courtship. They have been the culmination of a considerable amount of time spent together. That’s no more a guarantee of longevity than a brief romance is a guarantee of failure, but it stands for something. And it’s one of the reasons tears inevitably well in my eyes when I watch two friends, who have forged a relationship through friendship, love, trials and life itself, commit to marriage.

As much as I love the dresses, the flowers, the tables and all those delicate details (believe me I do) it is the ceremony and speeches that I love the most. It is always a privilege to watch as the curtains are momentarily drawn on the couple and their families. A wedding is often the only occasion when adults publically articulate - in words as much as ceremony – to their friends and family that they love one another so much they’re going to spend the rest of their lives together. (Even better, at most weddings, the how and why of this momentous decision are often covered too.) In sickness and in health. For richer and for poorer.  Come what may, they’re going to do it together. And if that’s not cause for champagne, cake and dancing, I’m afraid nothing is.

A post on weddings has been in the pipeline or, more accurately my head, for some time but today seems particularly fitting to indulge my inner romantic. For one thing, today marks three years to the happy day that Mr G and I tied the knot ourselves.  I can’t quite believe three years have passed but then I remember what has happened since that day and it seems plausible. In particular the fact we share our apartment with a two year old and I’m six months’ pregnant, drives the point home.

My ever-swelling belly is actually the other less selfish reason I’m indulging in a little wedding sentimentality today. The NABM household is expecting to increase its headcount by one in November and the timing means I will miss out on not one, and not two, but THREE weddings that I can say with absolute confidence will be utterly spectacular. Naturally I will pore over photos and demand detailed recaps from other friends and the couples themselves in an attempt to vicariously absorb their celebrations. But I will miss out on the speeches and the ceremonies and my goodness I will miss that.

Do you love weddings? Or did you read this and think I’ve lost my clucky mind??