One month married – a reflection

One month. Or, more accurately, five weeks and one day. That’s how long it has been since Dave and I stood in front of all the people we love and made our marriage vows to one another.

In the lead-up to the wedding, amidst the planning and preparation, I didn’t give much thought to how I would feel after the wedding. Actually, that’s a lie. I did give it some thought – I worried that I would have a massive wedding hangover; becoming mired in sadness because that one, magical day was now over. I thought I would spend my days fervently wishing that we could go back to being engaged. But I haven’t.

Because being married is so much better, so much more fulfilling, so much more joyous than being engaged.

It is so much more than I thought it would be.

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On the face of things, marriage wasn’t going to change our life together. We had already been living together for over four years and all of our long-term plans included each other. We felt loved and accepted by one another, safe and comfortable. I am known to Dave’s niece and nephew as Aunty Koren and my parents have long considered Dave a son. Neither of us was naive enough to assume that being married would make us more committed to one another, but much to our mutual surprise, something has shifted.

I remember standing at our reception just before we made our speech, looking out over a room filled with the people we love. There was an energy in that room that I can’t quite describe. It was like a pot of water just before it hits the boil – rolling, sitting just under the surface. You can feel it but not quite see it.

That energy was made up of love and hope and faith and happiness, and to realise that it was all on our behalf was humbling. It is a feeling that I hope everyone gets to experience in their lifetime.

Since the wedding, I find myself saying the word ‘husband’ a lot. I like the way it feels on my tongue, the way it fills my ears and the way it envelopes my heart.

I like knowing that in marrying, we have become part of a tradition shared with my grandparents and parents.

I like knowing that our love for one another has been marked in the pages of history and will still be there for our descendants to see in centuries to come. Whatever other stories about us survive, they will know we loved each other.

Our love feels deeper and more intimate. We feel closer to one another. Our relationship has subtly and almost imperceptibly grown. It’s wonderful.

I didn’t think it possible that our life together could get even better.

Never before have I been so happy to realise I don’t know everything.

 

Image by Warren Photography

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All you need is love

It was with much sadness that I heard that the beautiful Farid lost his courageous battle with cancer last Friday. I married Farid and Lisa in February this year and my heart broke for them and the years together that they had been so cruelly denied.

In the short time that I knew Farid, he taught me that The Beatles had it right. All you need is, in fact, love.

On their wedding day, Farid and Lisa were aware that their time together was limited. Neither knew when it would run out, but they were determined to pack as much love and memories into their lives as possible.  They maintained positive outlooks and had long ago adopted the viewpoint that whatever came their way, they would face it. Together.

Lisa and Farid’s wedding was simple and sincere, just as they wanted it. No processions, no readings, no standing on ceremony – just honest and heartfelt statements that attested to how they feel, and would always feel, about the other. It was so moving to witness and left me thinking about it for days afterwards.

I still think about it now.

Cancer may have taken Farid from us, but it will never take away the love that Lisa and Farid share, or the love that all their family and friends are cocooning them both in now.

Vale Farid, a much loved and loving man.