Moving On…



Today is our wedding anniversary.

If you ask me I’ll say it’s on 24th but hubs proves me wrong every year and still I am caught a day early.

He shows me calendars online and the Thursday in October 1984 always fetches up as 23rd.

I really do prefer the 4 over the 3!

This time last year we went for dinner at our favourite Italian restaurant on the High Street, Pier Luigi’s.  Both our daughters came with us which was special.

The following day, my anniversary date, we went to Broadstairs and gently floated my parents’ ashes in the North Sea.

An unusual outing to mark the day of our union and my parents’ scattering.

Today we celebrate the 27th of our 28 years of marriage in our family home.

We may go out to dinner.

We will drink champagne.

We could talk about our wedding, all those years ago, that I remember so well tomorrow!

The French Prime Minister was in town, all the roads were blocked off into Westminster so our small wedding party took the tube.

In all our finery!

Luckily I had eschewed  a wedding dress.  Escalators and dusty platforms don’t go well with ivory silk.

After the ceremony we went for tea at the Montcalm, a lovely little hotel at Marble Arch.

“Romancing the Stone” filled a couple of hours before we took our reservations at Mr. Chow’s in Knightsbridge where we had our first date.

Today we will be thinking about our youngest son’s upcoming wedding.

He is already having unconventional ideas.

We are helping him and his fiance talk through the kind of wedding he is dreaming of and the kind we can afford.

It will be their day as it was ours despite the raised eyebrows and smiles.

It wasn’t the glitz or glamour or the number of guests that made our marriage work.

It was our dedication to God, our love for one another and complete trust during the child rearing years that did it.

Today we are preparing to sell the family home.

After our sojourn in London we are of one mind that we should continue moving on.

It’s time to let go of the nurseries and teenage rooms, the hallways and dens, the stone floors where our children pattered, the ovens that cooked for parties, the tables where we gathered for school, the four walls in which we laughed, bickered and grew.


The childhood is over now and it’s time to raise our glasses to a new tomorrow.

Share this:

No comments so far!

Leave a Comment