The Big Day

There are girly giggles and running footsteps in the hall and doors opening and shutting noisily. I think I’ll stay here for a while longer. When I leave the seclusion of my hotel room I’ll be stepping into an atmosphere of excitement because today is The Big Day. Everything is organised, including me. I have a personal schedule and I’m not needed for another ten minutes so I’m relishing the peace while I can.

The schedule was planned and distributed by the bride. I wonder if the bossy gene skipped a generation? My mum was a bossy woman. She organised my wedding like a military tattoo leaving me feeling like a spare part. I didn’t even choose my dress. ‘This one suits you far better,’ she had said in her mother-knows-best voice. Mum liked everything to be perfect. Just like my daughter.

I was so excited when our daughter was born. Now I’ll get to plan her big day, I remember thinking when she was still tiny. But she’s like her Gran and has organised today down to the smallest detail. She says she wanted to save me the hassle. Maybe she did. There was no point in arguing but the truth is I felt unneeded. The mother of the bride doesn’t have much of a role, does she? The father of the bride is a whole different part.

Her dad had been looking forward to this day too and would puff up proudly at the prospect of walking her down the aisle. He’d put on a serious face and say ‘I’m always going to be there for my little girl! I won’t let her down.’

‘Nor me,’ I thought with some indignation. ‘If she ever needs me, that is.’

Well, even the best laid plans can go awry. We’re having the worst winter weather in thirty years. The wedding hotel is now set in a beautiful winter wonderland but guests are calling with stories of ruined travel plans. We understand. It can’t be helped. The wedding will go ahead anyway. Even without the bride’s father. He’s stranded at an airport and kicking himself for missing her special day. One quick business trip, he had said. Back in 24 hours, he promised. But the look of panic on my daughter’s face when she heard the news was heart-breaking. All her plans were falling apart.

But I’m here, I said.

And so in ten minutes I’ll be escorting my daughter to her wedding. I know I’m beaming with pride. And why not? It’s my big day.