THE NOT WEDDING

Not quite two years ago my husband, my daughter and myself were invited to attend a very dear young friend’s engagement party. Childhood sweethearts that were finally going to “tie the knot”. Dress was smart casual. The venue, a trendy café slash art gallery in the heart of the city. All very uber cool. We donned our dress jeans and designer t-shirts for an evening with the bright young things. But as we enjoyed our white wines and lamb chops we got a sense that things were not quite what they seemed.

We were ushered inside, into the inner gallery space. We were told the newly engaged couple had something they wanted to share with everyone. But they were nowhere to be found. I leaned over to my daughter, “What’s a bet this engagement party is really a wedding?”. And then the announcement was made. “Tonight we will be celebrating not only an engagement but also a wedding”.

Unbeknownst to both families, the bride and groom had secretly planned to swap the engagement party for a simple wedding ceremony. There was a quick change of outfit for the bride, the adding of a flower to the groom’s shirt, the families were notified of their intent and the ceremony was underway. It was, without doubt, the coolest wedding I have ever attended.

As a guest, an innocent bystander, I had the privileged position of watching the excitement that was going on around me. In particular, the mother of bride’s reaction to this sudden change in plans. A woman I had known and respected and had enjoyed the company of for many years. Someone I called a very dear friend. I watched her, and wondered how she felt that her only child, her only daughter, had made this choice to be married in such a modern, non-traditional manner. I watched as her face conflicted with itself by beaming with joy and pride, only to change suddenly to a crashing sadness and confusion, then just as quickly replaced by smiles and laughter and love. I thought, “What an emotional roller-coaster you are riding right now”. But not once did I sense that she was anything but thrilled that her daughter was so obviously truly happy.

oOo

In February, our daughter invited us to lunch. She has known this man for a while now but they have only just recently voiced their affections for each other. She met him on the internet, in a chat group she had joined. He is coming to meet her face to face. He lives in LA. He will be here next week. “Will you have dinner with us? He would like to meet you. He has written you this letter.” She is very excited. She doesn't know what this means. “It could be nothing”.

It wasn't nothing. It was something.

In June, the commitment is real. He flies her to LA to meet his parents, to see where he lives, to spend time together, and to propose. She can barely contain herself when she tells us. Hoping from one foot to the other like she is six again. “I’m engaged. I’m getting married next year. I’m moving to LA next year” she gushes “I’m moving to LA”. We are so excited for her. There are issues around emigration. Strict laws about getting married in order to get a “green card”. Neither of them wants the fuss and hassle of a formal wedding, a decision has been made. No wedding. Just the signing of the paperwork. A marriage but no wedding. “I’m confused. Don't you want us there? Can't we celebrate with you at the civil ceremony? What does thing mean?” I was crushed.

It felt like my daughter had washed her hands of her family, her life up to this point. It felt like my daughter had decided that because she had a new life, in a new country, that this life, and the people connected to it, no longer existed. If felt like she had wiped the slate clean and had wiped us out in the process. It broke my heart.

For three months I struggled to accept my daughter’s decision. I had no choice. I had to accept her decision. She is not a child but a woman in her thirties and I have no right to expect anything less. It hurt. It deeply hurt.

In November an uneasy calm settled on our lives. After four arduous years our daughter finally finished her thesis and her degree. With more space in her life, and in her head, she was ready to think about the next step she was taking in her life. “Mum it’s time to tell me what you really think”. So I told her. I told her "I am hurt". I told her "It's hard to let go with nothing more than a wave at an airport." I told her "I don’t understand why there has to be just… nothing." “Mum I don’t want a wedding but I would love the chance to say to goodbye. For everyone to meet him. To let you all know 'why'. Let’s have a party.”

After a day of planning, three weeks of preparation, the Not Wedding was born.

In January, on a steamy summer afternoon, with saris blowing in the breeze, brass dishes full of  Indian curries and nan bread, plates of fruit and nuts and Turkish delight and baklava, whilst drinking French champagne, honey beer and pear cider, our daughter’s family and friends gathered in our garden to celebrate. To celebrate her completing her degree. To meet the fiancé. To congratulate them on their engagement. To wish her well with her new life in another country. To toast to the upcoming nuptials. To have the Not Wedding. 

oOo

When you have a daughter, who is also your only child, there are so many hopes and dreams and promises. Things that you want for her but also for yourself. Selfish I will admit but when you have a child your lives are connected forever and there is no way to separate them.

My friend, whose own daughter had the surprise wedding, would have had her own hopes and dreams and promises. Without realising it, on the day of the Not Wedding, my friend gave me a gift by reminding me that both of our daughters were never going to do things that were traditional or main stream. We hadn't brought them up that way. And that was a good thing, because they were happy in their own skin.

There will be no actual 'wedding' and I’m okay with that. My daughter will travel to America by herself and her and her fiancé will marry on a day of their own choosing, and I am okay with that. I am okay because my daughter is happy in her own skin. 

On the day of the Not Wedding my daughter gave a speech to our family and friends. A speech that was full of love and respect for the people who had taken the time to be there. A speech which provided a glimpse into the loved and respect she and her fiancé have for each other. A speech that shared not only their joy but also what was important to them. It was eloquent, it was honest and it shared with her guests exactly what it was they needed to do. How it was right it was right for them.  

I was so very proud of my daughter at that moment and I wanted to share with you part of that speech. 

(In answer to the question why no wedding) 

“Just like today there will be no aisle, no celebrant, no vows and no bouquet. (We) are far more dressed up today than we will be when we sign the paperwork. When our untidy signatures land on the paperwork they will probably be with a chewed up biro I have in my handbag, not a fancy fountain pen or over the top feather quill. We will leave the courthouse, high-five each other, then go for a beer at the nearest bar. All in all, it will be remarkably similar to any other day. And I guess that’s what traditions are; they are days that you decide will be different. That (we) will legally become Husband and Wife isn't going to stand out as an important day to us. Our important days are the day we first told each other how much we liked each other. The first time we met in person. The day I’m landing in America and moving into our home permanently. The day my permanent residency comes through. And today, the day we share with you.”

I know my daughter. Never for one moment did I imagine that if she married her wedding would be traditional or main stream. She just doesn't ‘do’ traditional or main stream. I taught her that and I would expect nothing less of her. I will confess that I did have hopes and dreams and promises of how my daughter would marry. And they were that it would be in our garden and that it would be simple, with only family and a few close friends. I got my wish.