……and then!

 

Just a birthday beach party?

My son got married! 

It had been a well kept secret, from him anyway. Izzy had insisted through the years that she never wanted to marry. He’d resigned himself to the fact and then, on his 40th birthday, she presented herself to him, with a celebrant standing by and a marriage certificate ready to sign.

It was a beautiful day. Friends had participated in the subterfuge and in expertly organised fashion, set up the ceremonial stage on the property beachfront while William was canoed away for an apparent spot of birthday fishing. He duly complied in spite of his bemused reservations at having to leave his birthday party and when well out of sight of the activities at home he was presented with the proposal - by a series of photos on a fellow canoeist’s phone of the four Maine Coon house cats, each with an attached note to spell out “Will….you….marry….me?” Returning to the beach he had to hoist a Welsh flag for ‘yes’, which he duly did and a surrendered Izzy drifted diaphanously out to meet him with Lewie, the biggest cat, in her arms. 

William had never suspected a thing in all of the months leading up to the occasion.

So my two younger sons are now married. Richard and Libby marry shortly after I return home from here in BC and I will have a clutch of daughters-in-law. I’m getting used to the idea of being outnumbered but I’m so grateful for the additional female energy they bring into the family, along with my two little grand-daughters.

There’s nothing like a wedding to make one emotional, and this was no exception. Tears were order of the day for a good few of us, each with our different reasons. Listening to a couple make their vows to each other, gives everyone pause for thought. Those are big promises. As a mother I enjoyed seeing my son’s happiness shine out as he embraced his lady and looked into her eyes as he made those vows. As a woman who broke her own wedding vows I reflect on the challenges of keeping them. My darling sister, whose marriage is still strong (see previous blog post) stayed beside me, knowing instinctively what was churning in my mind.

Back at home my steadfast partner, Gareth, holds fort. He came to this ceremony as a finger puppet along with William’s brothers and their little families. He and I have been together now for twenty seven years without taking the step of getting a marriage certificate. Maybe we will and maybe we won’t. Who knows.

In another life I might have been like my sister, carving out a life and living in this vast country with my husband. It scared me then and it scares me now even though I sit comfortably on the beach, signs of the weekend party mostly cleared away, waves on the the lake rocking me gently, forested mountains basking benignly in a smoke-free sky and nothing for the moment to worry about. I can’t help but think, however, about my attachment to home, my partner and the rest of the family. I will be going home before long, leaving the newly weds to their life together. I am thankful and assured that my middle son has made a choice that brings him happiness and this is the place now where he belongs.

Why am I going fishing?

That’s it! Signed!

Look what I got for my birthday!

The family came too!

All together now