“Oh yes, I was right at the beginning. Ha ha. So yes, I wanted to say a few words about Rachel and Carley on their wedding day.”
Deep breath, Freya. You can get through this. Even without your notes.
Just wing it.
“It has come to my attention this year that life is… uh… well, it’s a big mess. But, so long as you have people around youwho love you, you’ll find that you’re able to put one foot in front of the other just fine anyway, no matter where you’re going or where you end up. Friends, family, partners in love, partners in crime—”
Satisfying chuckle from the audience here.
“—we help each other navigate the mess. We love each other, guide each other, don’t give up on each other—”
Mum is smiling and dabbing at her eyes dramatically with a floral handkerchief.
Christ.
“—and we don’t let each other give up on ourselves. What I’m trying to say is—”
I turn to my cousin and her new wife.
“—Rachel and Carley, we love you, we’re happy for you, and we’re also all here for you. You made your promises today, and now that’s my promise to you. We are here for you on your journey together, whatever happens. So, I would like to raise a toast to putting one foot in front of the other.” I raise my glass in the air. “To… feet!”
To feet.To feet?!
I just raised a glass…to feet?!
Well. That’s it. I’ve officially lost my head. Case closed. The end.
Everyone, quite rightly, bursts out laughing. But by an extraordinary twist, they chorus “To feet!” in the most rousing toast of the night, and then the marquee erupts with applause and cheering. Rachel and Carley come rushing over and envelop me in a huge hug.
“That was so beautiful,” Rachel sobs in my ear.
“I raised a toast to feet,” I remind her.
“Yes, you did,” she says, pulling away and cupping my face with her hands. “And it was perfect.”
Things I miss about Matthew when I’m at a wedding:
He is very good at talking to anyone, which is handy as I never had to worry about conversation with people we didn’t know on our table as he’d chat away and put us all at ease.
He really makes me laugh when he’s dancing.
If he noticed me really enjoying something on my plate, he’d give me his. For example, those delicious little sun-dried tomatoes that often come with a wedding charcuterie starter. He always used to slide his onto my plate without even breaking conversation with the guest sitting on his other side. This is one of those small but affectionate gestures in life that, when they’re gone, you realize just how sweet they were.
Things I love about being by myself at a wedding:
I can choose the wedding gift from the registry that I think is most appropriate for the couple without a partner remarking that it’s “not very original” when they discover what I’ve selected (even though when they were asked for their opinion at the time of purchasing they didn’t look up from their phone and said “Sure, yeah, get whatever you want, babe”).
I don’t have to listen to someone whining about having to wear a tie on the way to the ceremony.
I have the opportunity to sit next to people who can sing hymns in tune.
I am able to chat to new people at my table without anyone talking over me or interrupting to tell the story because they tell it funnier.
I am focusing on my own dancing rather than anyone else’s on the dance floor and, even though it’s a slow process, I am gradually growing my confidence in this area.
I no longer have to put up with ridiculous drunken arguments over nothing that ruin the night.
The only person I have to worry about is myself.
