Fourteen years ago, I awoke in my childhood bedroom … well got up anyway … I was too excited to sleep much.
My bestie and my Mum and I quickly ate breakfast and took ourselves down to the salon for hair and makeup.
We emerged hours later, coiffed and painted, but still recognisable.
Everyone ate lunch … not me … I couldn’t eat for the excitement.
Then I put on my beautiful dress, remade from the Guipure lace from my mother’s gown.
I looked beautiful.
More than that.
Lit from the inside.
The flowers arrived.
The photographer arrived. Then we left for the church in a pair of 1970s vintage Holdens.
Dad walked me up the aisle.
Greg was crying: I avoided looking at him so I wouldn’t cry too.
We promised to love each other until death parted us, (never thinking that death would part us after only 12 and a half years).
I felt so loved and lucky that my face ached from the smiling.
and the kissing.
and the loving gazes into his beautiful blue eyes.
I glided through the reception – everything was perfect.
and we left our friends and family at the party to have our own celebration of our first night as man and wife.
Today would have been our 14th anniversary.
and it’s been just over 18 months since by better half died.
I awoke to the screeching of the car alarm of the white trash across the street.
Well, I got up anyway. Sleep isn’t so easy for me these days…
I couldn’t open my eyes.
It seems I have conjunctivitis to add to my already long list of symptoms typical of my “holiday illness” (I never get sick during work time, just holiday time).
It seems appropriate that my eyes are already red and puffy.
I had a shower and prised open my red, oogy eyes.
I put on track pants and one of Greg’s old shirts: nobody was going to see me today.
I didn’t bother to do my hair.
but I did brush my teeth.
I look like shit.
I ate breakfast so I could swallow some cold and flu tablets.
…and I sent my mother out to buy my eye drops.
Somehow, this seems an appropriate way to mark this day.
….the second of many lonely wedding anniversaries….