It’s been a long while since I wrote about the wedding. Hey, I’ve been busy trying to put out the damned magazine and I have insomnia! So back to the wedding.
After we said “I do” to each other, we came out of the room to be greeted by rain. My husband pulled me aside and revealed the bad news: we were going to have to move our wedding indoors. The ground was muddy, all the linen was soaked and our lovely, lovely decorations were ruined. I was gutted but there was nothing we could have done. The hotel staff was already busy setting up in the ballroom.
This was where it all went a bit wrong. There was a bit of trouble regarding the table seating and more than a few disgruntled looks were spotted (sigh). The situation was further worsened by rude guests who complained about their seats (the nerve!). As if we weren’t stressed out enough.
At one point, I heard Peter, our emcee, announce that there was going to be a soundcheck for an event the next day and I positively freaked out. What the hell was going on? I asked. The husband moved me to one corner and made me stay there while the rest bustled around, making sure I was sheltered from the problems. I felt really loved but honestly? It was utterly, utterly boring to sit there and do nothing!
Finally, we managed to usher the guests to their seats and the gang was outside with us, waiting for our entrances. I don’t think I will ever forget that moment when we were engulfed in the group hug – it was lovely, lovely. I am glad that I “forced” them into doing the march-in with us; I loved that they were recognised for their hard work and Skunk’s rock on pose was just priceless.
When I got into the ballroom and saw the seats on the stage, I was a bit curious. But it didn’t occur to me to ask the husband. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was all the anxiety, my curiosity was just not working that night. Good for him, because I am usually curious as hell.
And then, there were men sitting down with guitars and mikes in front of them on stage. He had engaged a band without my knowledge! The first song that The Goodfellas (they play at Timbre) launched into was my “It” song of the moment: Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours”. Oh, it was brilliant! The band made the stuffy ballroom environment so much livelier, although I did wish that it hadn’t rained and we were dancing under the stars and lanterns instead of some stupid lights.
But that wasn’t all. Why is the husband going on stage? He said something about singing a song that was special to us, and then the guitar strains of Snow Patrol’s “Chasing Cars” started and the was warbling into the mike! It’s going to sound mushy but when he fixed his gaze upon me as he sung, it felt strangely spine-tingling and surreal. And seriously, the dude even had his own fan club! I couldn’t believe it but he had really caught me by surprise. I mean, I had been joking about him singing to me at the wedding for months but it never occurred to me that he would really do it. My husband, the romantic man, who would have known?
And so the rest of the evening passed by in a whirl. We moved around the tables and chatted with our friends. We got on stage to do the yumseng and boy, those people were really letting it rip. We did funny, silly things while uncorking the champagne and slicing up that silly cupboard cake. We laughed and cried a little (oh well, I did) when the video he had made of us played (it was my first time watching it too).
Next came surprise number three. I had allocated some time for the gang to do a toast and when they trundled onto the stage, I was expecting a speech about our embarrassing moments and perhaps a little photo montage. What appeared on the screen astounded us. It was a video of how me and the husband met, supposedly. It was 99% rubbish (apparently nobody remembered how we met exactly) but 101% hilarious. I laughed and I cried and then suddenly, the images of our overseas friends appeared on the screen! It was mad and so funny, that I even thought it funny to see Skunk play me in a pink hairband. For the record, I do not have a pink hairband. And I am not fierce. And I do not shout at people.
At the end of the night, we danced in the ballroom as the band played on and more. He did a pole dance around me, I tossed the bouquet to a bunch of excited men and GQ was the lucky recipient of the gorgeous lilies (and Nyrtap’s loving embrace). And then they came up into the bridal suite and we drank ourselves silly with the remaining red wine. Ah, drunken bliss.
It was after all these that I came to the sensible realisation: the perfect wedding isn’t about the beautiful lights, pretty favours or gorgeous decorations. It’s about being married to the love of your life, and it’s about sharing that joy with people who genuinely want to be a part of that celebration. I could do without the tables of distant relatives, they were not important to me. And while I felt a tinge of sadness that the wedding we had been planning for so long did not materialise, what really mattered was that we had finally tied the knot and it was the happiest day of our lives.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.