Green Smarties

The service began and I had composed myself enough to walk elegantly down toward the altar and my future husband. The main problem I had was in slowing my father down who appeared to be in unseemly haste to get rid of me as quickly as possible. He told me later it was nerves – well that was his excuse anyway.

Peter looked very handsome in his naval uniform, ceremonial sword by his side and indeed all went well until he and I stood up after kneeling at the altar. He lost control of the sword which swung round and whacked me behind the knees nearly felling me to the ground. I staggered and steadied myself on his arm.

The hymns had been carefully chosen but as the first one rose to the rafters, I realised the words were perhaps rather strange. ‘I Bind Unto Myself Today…’ The organist had suggested this instead of ‘Oh Come Oh Come Emanuel’ which had been Peter’s first choice. As Nick the organist had pointed out, it was too early to use an Advent carol, but the substitute had a similar medieval lilt to match my medieval style wedding dress with its hooded lace coat instead of a veil. This had not been a deliberate theme originally, but had been set by the bargain dress bought in the sale.

As we struggled through the first verse about ‘binding’ I began to sense panic. It was almost as much of a faux pas as the hymn ‘Fight The Good Fight’ would have been. The rest of the hymns were more acceptable, ‘God Be In My Head’, which I certainly hoped He would be to help me through, and ‘The Lord Is My Shepherd’ where I hoped He would find us a few peaceful green pastures ahead. The service ended with the Navy hymn ‘Eternal Father Strong To Save’ which was sung kneeling. The guard of honour in Navy uniform sang this lustily at full volume bringing tears to many eyes.

There was a bit of an issue with my mother-in-law. She had broken her leg the week before and was in plaster from the hip down, and in a wheelchair. However, this did not manifest itself as a particular problem until the procession down the aisle after the signing of the register.

Accompanied by the Hornpipe from Handel’s Water Music (suggested by the organist – looking back I should have challenged some of his choices more) Peter and I led the line of parents, best man and matron of honour, unaware of the drama unfolding behind.

My father, being one for ‘doing things properly’, was trying to push the wheelchair with one hand so that he and my mother-in-law could process side by side. However he had forgotten to take the brake off and was getting redder in the face by the minute, beads of perspiration dripping onto his morning suit. He was on the point of collapse by the time we reached the door.

The triumphant exit under the Guard of Honour’s archway of crossed swords was slightly marred by the sight of my father having to sit down and be given a glass of water by my mother – who had excelled in her passion for hats and appeared to be wearing a large pink meringue on her head.