Marriage not marriage

If We Hadn’t Divorced it would be our 44th Wedding Anniversary

We only made it to 10

Myself and new hubby. Photo, author’s own.

We were 23 and 19 years old respectively when we married. Just kids really. It was a beautiful day, but it started out less than auspicious. It was pouring with rain. I had my hair appointment early on. And I felt, well, sort of blech. Unenthusiastic. Wished it was all over; wished it wasn’t happening at all. The weather reflected my mood perfectly.

We were due to get married at midday, so at 11:30 I got into the bridal car with my grandfather who was walking me down the aisle. I still felt revolting. As we drove the few miles to the church, the sun began to peep out. And then as we arrived at the church, the clouds cleared away completely. Blue sky, tweeting birds, pealing bells. It was a miracle. And a perfect day.

We couldn’t afford a honeymoon, so spent our wedding night in a hotel called ‘The Beverley’ (it’s more of a club and bar now). Then we moved straight into the new home that we’d scraped and saved to purchase over the previous year.

The following weeks were magical. We collected our dog who had been living at the stables where I kept my ponies. We moved the ponies closer to our new home too. Our life would be wonderful.