I confess. I'm a proud Mum, and never more so than when my children do something remarkable. On Saturday 12th September, my firstborn married a lovely lady whom I am honoured to call my daughter in law. Each of the children excelled themself in special ways. Youngest son, looking terribly grown-up in his suit, was charming and gracious. Penultimate son curbed his natural tendency to smart-arsity and charmed birds off trees. Foster-daughter sang "Ave Maria" during the signing of the register in a voice that is naturally beautiful, and with a confidence she has grown into over the time she has been living with us. Daughter was the most gorgeous usher I have ever seen, and she fulfilled her role with poise and grace. Second son has all the social graces in abundance, and delighted family, friends, and total strangers. And eldest son gazed into his wife's eyes with love and made my heart leap with hope.The run-up to the wedding was a nightmare. I only had the Friday off work, so it was a crazy day, buying shirts and cufflinks and wedding cards, and having my nails and hair done. By the time I got home my beloved uncle had arrived and the resident offspring were all at a pre-wedding reception in Leeds, so he and I walked down to a local Indian restaurant and enjoyed a lazy and gastronomically satisfying evening.
Saturday morning saw the arrival of another three bodies, so that by 9am I had 8 people in the house. Second son took charge of the iron and made sure all had shirts and frocks worthy of the occasion, while daughter supplied caffeine to all who needed it. Thanks to my colleague who volunteered to act as a driver, we were all on our way to Leeds by 11.30.
Arriving at the groom's house, scruffy youngsters were transformed into smart young men and women, and by 1pm I was at the church distributing buttonholes and tying ties (it is astonishing how many young men do not know how to knot a tie). Meanwhile daughter overcame her natural reticence to ush efficiently alongside the bride's brother with poise and charm.
The wedding was was perfect, the bride breathtakingly lovely, and the groom so happy I was close to tears of joy myself. Foster daughter's wedding present to her brother and sister-in-law was to stand in front of 90 strangers to sing Schubert's setting of "Ave Maria" - I was so proud of her as her rich, pure voice rang round the chapel. Check it out on YouTube here.
Interminable photographs - perhaps the least appealing aspect of a wedding - were followed by a magnificent reception in Leeds Met Hotel. Flawless service, excellent food and heartfelt speeches, and the delightful company of the bride's father and the best man made for a most pleasing wedding breakfast. Then there was an interlude to chat and catch up with old friends as the staff rearranged the room and the photographers whizzed through a gazillion photos to produce a slideshow of the wedding and reception. Then another wave of guests arrived and the evening party began. The tables had been pushed back, a dance floor laid, and a buffet of cheese, biscuits, fruits and wedding cake provided sustenance for those with more stamina than I for dancing into the night.
A family conspiracy provided the musical highlight of the evening as the bride and groom were coaxed onto the dance floor to a recording of "Sylvia's Mother" by Dr Hook, a favourite of both. What the groom did not know until the music started was that we had resurrected a recording of his eight-year-old self, with siblings, singing lustily, if out of tune, along to the recording.
By 11.15, exhaustion was setting in, my feet hurt, the bride and groom were bopping madly to "Things can only get better" and the kiddiwinkles were all enjoying the fun, so I left the happy gathering with a glow of maternal satisfaction. My abiding memory of the day is the utter joy in the faces of my son and daughter-in-law as they turned towards the congregation at the end of the ceremony. All of a sudden, 27 years' parenting seems worth all the effort...
