9th wedding anniversary

Himself proposed one Easter Saturday, 9 years ago. We still had our beloved boat which he was restoring, and we went down to Restronguet to see her. (For once he was having a weekend off so I actually saw him.) In fact I remember being grumpy that we were going to see her at all, but he put down a ladder and said ‘come on, I’ve got something to show you’.

We clambered down into the boat which was, at that time, ribs and not much else, and he went down on one knee and asked me to marry him. Well – how could I say no?

Then followed the difficult bit. We made a list of everyone we wanted to invite to the wedding. Then another list of the people we should invite. It came to over 250 people, and neither of us wanted a big wedding.

“I think we should keep it quiet,” Himself said. “We’re going to Gibraltar for a holiday anyway – let’s get married out there.”

So I organised that, but keeping it quiet from the family was difficult. One evening my oldest brother rang up and said, “My wife thinks you’re going to Gib to get married.”

“We are,” I hissed. “But don’t tell anyone else.”

I put down the phone and it rang again. This time it was my mother. “You wouldn’t get married without telling me, would you?” said a wobbly voice.

I sat there wondering what to do. If I said no I’d be lying. If I said yes, she’d be utterly miserable. I can’t remember what I did say but I must have fudged something.

I then went next door and said to Himself, “We have to tell the family. It’s not fair.”

He agreed, and in the end we had a family do as it was Mum’s 70th birthday party the weekend before we were due to get married, so we saw all the family and flew off to Gib.

Life hasn’t been easy over those 9 years – well, 12 years since we met. But no relationship is ever easy. We’ve weathered a few storms, had our fair share of screeching rows, but our sense of humour has kept us together. And after all, what is life without a laugh?

Talking of which, Himself’s diet is going so well that he decided, on our wedding anniversary, to give up alcohol. (You can see how much celebrating we did last night.) He has a sense of timing, you could say, though this was after a few nights of drinking gin. When I pointed out that gin was three times as strong as wine, he said, “Don’t be ridiculous, Pop. It’s three timed distilled.”

Sometimes I’ve learnt it’s easier not to pursue certain matters. This was one of them.

Anyway, Day One of sobriety went well – but as in our marriage, we’ll take it day by day.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring?