If you can survive planning a wedding, your marriage has every chance of success. More than anything a wedding is about relationships, but the one that brought you to a desire for marital status, is the one that is threatened the most.
It’s required to have relationships, with the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker. Not quite, but in this case: the hairdresser, the make-up artist and the dressmaker – all underpinned (pardon the pun) by money.
Even if the relationships existed before and mostly they did not, they take on a new intimacy. And relationship building takes on a new art form, while the bond with my husband to be, starts to fall apart at the seams.
A bit like my dress, which I had to resurrect with an all-new dressmaker as the befallen was not about to rise any time soon.
While he tries to deal with the stress by making light of all the glitches in the party plan, I have completely lost my sense of humour. We have to speak at least three times a day, first to exchange the bad news, and then two more times to attempt to normalise.
If the second conversation doesn’t take, then the third verbal encounter must. I have threatened pre-marital divorce as the first to go down in history, while he continues to beg for calm and reason. Then I find out that he accepts the blame for holding up the process and has the nerve to ask, “Do you still want to get married?”
The question hangs heavy on my heart and that day I hold out for conversation three to say, “I booked tickets for the rugby at Montecasino,” and hope that affirms my response. When calm and reason become scarce, compromise is the only saving grace.