My son's wedding day arrived at super speed on Saturday 23rd April 2016.
I was going to be 'The Mother of the Groom!' I was quite excited to tell you the truth. It's no small task being mother of the groom. I know the better title is 'Mother of the Bride!' But I have to be grateful for small pickings. And my rival, 'Mother of the Bride' is a lovely woman so we were going to sail along on the day itself like the perfectly organised pair we were.
It had been an emotional roller coaster ever since the engagement ring was placed on the fiancee all the way up till my son said 'I do!'
He's a tense lad is our son, a little bit shy and anti-social and a small bit moody, (He get's that side of his personality from his Dad!) So, as much as I was trying to be a helpful, non-pushy, non-busybody Mother, the little fecker wouldn't let me do anything! (At 49, I'm probably just too young to be Mother of the Groom! So we clashed! A lot! lol) But I trudged along like any good Irish Mother worth their salt would! With the determination of a Spirit that couldn't be broken!
For three whole weeks I cleaned my house while my hubby did the repairs and my brother in law did the painting, but I was happy with the result. Now it was ready for the day of the wedding, when our whole family would come and scruffy it up again! The hairdresser and makeup girls set up their stations. To be fair, they had their work cut out for them. My face had grown a thousand more wrinkles that week alone and my hair was a hard one to tame! But, they did it! The pair of them worked tirelessly till we were all gorgeous. Even my youngest had that much desired pageant make-up she had always desired! She was to be junior bridesmaid and she hadn't slept in weeks with excitement!
The house soon filled with friends, neighbours and relatives and the bubbly was poured. The sun came out and it was a beautiful day. Not a heatwave by no means, but Ireland always has a habit of down-pouring on newly married couples or drizzling down on already miserable mourners while burying their beloved relatives. The rain is supposed to be good luck, but really, how lucky is the bride who's beautifully styled hair has gone all frizzy from the damp? Or indeed, how lucky is the beloved dead person covered in heavy wet muck?
Well in this case the sun was lucky for all us Murray's because everybody was in great form as we headed to the church. It was indeed a beautiful ceremony with the church filled with beautiful flowers and designer guna's. (dresses in Irish!)
As I mentioned before, my youngest child is 11 and although she was delighted to be all dressed up like a bridesmaid from 'My big fat gypsy wedding', she has a few sensory difficulties. While my oldest and his beloved were exchanging vows, my little one was peeling off her eyelashes and asking me to take out her hair pins, for all the church to hear!
We had initially made bets on who would cry first, the bride or the groom, but we were all wrong! My hubby was the one sobbing into the feathers on my fascinator! I didn't cry at all. My husband said I was as hard a stone. No, I was just praying that the bride wouldn't change her mind and say no, and then I'd have the little fecker back home with me again! I was smiling happily when they had signed that registry thingy. No going back now! Yey!
And then it got very chaotic. We all legged it to the venue, which must have been pre-warned for the various personalities arriving. They welcomed us all in with smiles on their faces and prayers in their minds....
And then I vaguely remember feeling like 'Steve Martin' in that great movie, 'Father of the Bride!' I seemed to bob along all over the place mingling with our guests. I kept arriving late to all the little special moments, cutting the cake, the speeches, the first dances....
As I said before, 'The Mother of the Bride' was a great match for me and we both took to our task of 'Hosts' like fish to water. We trudged through the crowd like professional cage fighters. We matched any alcoholic with our consumption of wine. We tenderly took care of our older relatives, hurrying them out the door, less we miss any fun. We minded the younger people, in the small hours of the morning making sure they were in their own beds......
We sorted out a little fight or two as we swallowed next years alcohol allowance as well as this years!
And when we finally headed off to be bed at 5.30 in the morning, we had no pyjamas, no tooth brushes, no glasses! And I know I shared my very expensive bed with my mother and two nieces and my hubby had the pull out bed on the floor!
Sure it was great fun!
Am I sad that my son has left me for another woman? Not at all.
I now have a new daughter and a whole new family to invite to my next Doo!
Jean xxx
