20 Years
Twenty years ago today a Rolls Royce sped past a church in Oxfordshire, horrifying several elderly ladies waiting for it's arrival. Within the car, the bride and her father had struck up conversation with the driver, and were having far too much fun to notice anything as unimportant as the church they were supposed to be arriving at. The groom meanwhile stood at the altar, with no clue of the temporary drama unfolding outside.
My memories of that day are hazy at best, twenty years on. I remember listening to a friend read the passage from Corinthians about growing up and putting away childish things. I remember turning around at the end of the ceremony and being blown away by a church filled with friends and family. It's funny – when you're in the middle of a wedding, you're kind of in a bubble. It's easy to lose sight of everything and everyone around you.
I remember drinks being bought for me at the reception – lined up on the bar – and feeling bad that I wasn't going to get through them. I remember finding a quiet corner at one point with my better half, collapsed on a chair together. Within moments those with cameras discovered us. They have always been our favourite photos of the day.
I remember the older generations of the family staging a reunion of sorts. It's amazing how births, marriages and deaths seem to succeed in bringing people together when there was nothing stopping them doing so beforehand.
Where on earth have the last twenty years gone ?
This evening, while standing on the touchline of a rugby pitch, we watched two of our three daughters running back and forth. I walked to a nearby gas station and returned with two chocolate bars.
As I handed a bar of chocolate to my other half I grinned and said “Happy Anniversary”. A nearby friend's face broke into a huge smile.