048 - Chapter 48

(Illustrations: Collage of Sarah and Alan's wedding)

It was towards the close of my time as curate at St Mary Magdalene, Longbenton, that our daughter was married in 2001. I had the best view in the church, as I was the officiant! After the ceremony I quickly changed into my ‘mother of the bride’ outfit in the vestry, while my sister Joan, also a priest, saw to the signing of the registers. When we, as the bridal party, emerged in procession, someone asked the person next to her, “Who’s that lady in green who’s just joined the procession?” She replied, “I don’t know, where did she come from?”

Perhaps my change of outfits in the vestry was too speedy and slick?

How exciting it was to be part of the organisation of the wedding, and to help Sarah prepare every detail for this wonderful family occasion. It was so very moving to see my daughter overcome with emotion at the rehearsal, in tears, hardly able to say her lines. Even her ‘husband to be’ Alan was emotional. They managed to compose themselves the next day though.

Longbenton, where St Mary Magdalene stood, was undergoing a revitalization programme at the time, and many old buildings were being torn down, and new buildings were being built. It meant that the entire estate around the church, looked like a bomb site, not the ideal setting for our in-laws from down south, and their guests, (or ours for that matter); but Sarah and Alan, to their credit, were determined to be married where I was serving as a priest. There’s many a bride would have pressed for a more picturesque venue. We couldn’t have been prouder of both of them.

We decided however to have the reception at a country hotel, where there was lots of space and green lawns, and we chose Linden Hall in Longhorsely, Northumberland. At that time of year, the front of the building was covered with Virginia Creeper which was bright red, and it looked wonderful.

When we initially went to book this hotel, the year before, there were men standing with automatic rifles at the gates, who questioned us as we entered the grounds. We didn’t know it would be this difficult to book a wedding venue, nor did we think that security would be this tight!

We soon found out the reason. As I was filling in forms at the reception desk, Sarah went into the lounge to warm herself at the fire, and Robbie Williams sauntered down the lounge’s open staircase. He crossed the room, nodded to Sarah, then went into the hall right behind me, and into the garden. (I was still signing the forms!) Bob was out there, so he saw him. I was the only one who didn’t!

It reminded me of the television advert where the photographer takes a break from trying to capture a photo of rare pandas at a zoo , and while his back is turned, they come out of their cave, waltz together and go back in! He misses his opportunity because he was having a break, having a Kit Kat!

 I missed out big time too.

The wedding reception was wonderful, but what stole the show, without any doubt, was Bob’s speech. Bob, who’d had such an important role to play that day in proudly giving his daughter away, held the floor for thirty-five minutes! A lengthy speech was expected and bets were placed on how long it would take! He was a laugh a minute, and had everyone in stitches. He has always had such a good sense of humour. His timing is superb, and he has a very sharp and ready wit, so much so that my nana used to say of him, ‘Any sharper and he will cut himself one day!’ 

The disco afterwards was memorable, with a mixture of dance styles past and present. The younger ones really loved the ‘Ceilidh’ style dances they weren't used to doing.

Sarah was the first of our brood to fly the nest.They had visited many places all around the world before and after their wedding: Vietnam, Australia, New Zealand, Fiji, the Maldives, Namibia, Peru, and the USA. Now they were off to Kenya for their honeymoon. It was so reassuring that she had a companion in Alan on trips abroad now. Sarah was certainly widening her horizons. She wasn’t our baby girl anymore!

No longer was she blowing out birthday candles as a wee toddler in a pink frilly dress, or singing ‘Away in a manger’ as the virgin Mary whilst nervously wringing the neck of baby Jesus. No longer was she the little girl with no front teeth, or displaying signatures on her plaster cast, no longer the demanding Queen of Narnia issuing her orders to a dwarf twice her size!

The world was now their oyster, the two of them, their future full of hope, packed with adventure and excitement.

Thoughts going through my head at that moment in the departure lounge, were similar to those sentiments of the mother's lament in 'Mama Mia': 

‘Slipping through my fingers’ 

The feeling that I'm losing her forever

And without really entering her world

I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter

That funny little girl

Slipping through my fingers all the time

I try to capture every minute

The feeling in it

Slipping through my fingers all the time

Do I really see what's in her mind

Each time I think I'm close to knowing

She keeps on growing

Slipping through my fingers all the time

A beautiful song!

It also took me back also to part of a song I wrote, which I mentioned in Chapter 38 which said:

. . and your children,

 all like buried treasure oh so rare,

one day soon will not be waiting there. . .

and the sand within the hourglass

 is descending through the air,

make time for love!