What was going through my mind when my wife and I exchanged vows? A lot. I was wracked with nerves. So much that I stumbled on my words, as did the beautiful bride before me as we clutched each other’s hands so tightly we left nail marks on each other’s knuckles.
It was only two days later, as we recalled our version of the wedding march, made to the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald’s ‘Let’s Do It‘, that my wife said to me, ‘eh? how come they throw the petals before the solemnisation instead of after?’
Trust my family members to do things back to front.
I liked the peppery smell of the freesias on my boutonniere/corsage, which a friend who we asked, at almost the last minute, to help with my wife’s dress remarked, ‘why is it so big?’. It was a little on the large side, but I liked it like that. I unwrapped the paper from the bridal bouquet, which comprised more peppery freesias and white roses, and held together with a copper-coloured ribbon and waited outside for my wife to get ready – it was taking a while because make-up turned out to be more complicated than expected.
If I had checked my phone then, I’d have seen frantic messages from my best man which read ‘hey we gotta do this, we’re losing light’.
But no matter, as another of our friends came along and told us it was time to move from our suite. The walk to the lawn was a blur, though the smell of the freesias were a comfort, as was my wife’s arm in mine. It didn’t matter that we had only ‘rehearsed’ this two hours earlier, neither did it matter that we couldn’t remember how the vows were to be recited/repeated.
I think for the duration of the walk and the solemnisation, nothing mattered in the whole wide world. Not the floral arrangements, the food and the venue, the photography, the wedding cakes and the favors. Not then.
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