I love that heart racing moment when the vicar announces that the bride is here. That her ribbon clad car has pulled up outside the church and that she is at this very moment delicately sliding out of the car, a satin slipper poking out from under her train as she emerges, the bridesmaids flocking around her to check that her make up and hair are just so.
And with the knowledge that his soon-to-be wife is outside, the groom shifts on his feet and exhales a puff of air and wipes the small beads of sweat from his flushed forehead, his hands visibly shaking. He tries to compose himself and then he sees her and his breath catches in his throat because she looks gorgeous. The entire congregation is on their feet facing away from him now, fixating on her instead, as she glides in, a vision of pure beauty in white tulle and lace.
And it’s that moment, that gaze between the bride and groom as the space between them gets smaller and smaller with each coordinated footstep, that I love the most. Because their love for each other literally in the air, floating around above you. It’s tangible. It prickles your skin and runs down your back, and momentarily flutters your heart and the hairs on your arms stand up because even they have to acknowledge the power of it.
The Groom gets teary and the Bride is beaming, trying hard to focus on not falling over – because as cliched as it sounds she’s weak at the knees – and simultaneously trying not to cry so much that her make-up is at risk of dissolving. For that moment everything revolves around them. Everyone is there solely to celebrate and share in the love that they have for each other. There is no other reason for this union of people.
But it’s always the Grooms face that gets me. The crinkle of his eyes, the look of almost shock at how stunning the woman he’s about to share the rest of his life with really looks. And one day, I hope that a certain someone will look at me like that as I walk up the aisle towards him.
I love throwing confetti and showering the couple in bursts of colourful paper. I love speeches and hearing little snippets of stories that have made this pair the people they are today. I love the sense of family. I love the emotion, the laughter, the merriment, the tears, the undoubted love flitting about the place between the couple, their families, their guests. Because weddings do that to people, they seem to reinvigorate and remind us of the love in our own lives. By celebrating somebody else’s love it makes us think about our own.
I love the toasts and the food and the snap and whirr of camera’s of the photographer that seems to appear from nowhere, only to then disappear again as soon as you’ve located them. I love the first dance and listening to the song that they’ve chosen, letting the lyrics they love so much fall about my ear lobes as I watch them smile with their eyes and kiss each other in between the verses.
I love a good Photo Booth and a beautiful dress. A colour scheme, a theme and all the little personal touches in-between. Like the table names, the centre pieces and the carefully put together favours.
I love going to weddings with my best friend by my side, my very own future husband. I especially love knowing that one day, it will be our day.
I love sending the couple off, under arches of raised arms, under a row of sparklers, accompanied by cheers and ‘Wooohooos!’ I love writing in guest books and wishing them every happiness.
I love it all.