Tag Archives: love

Renewing your wedding vows

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The good news is that it will now be much easier to get a divorce.

No longer will couples have to compile an itinerary of each other’s faults in order to persuade a Court that they can part.

It’s not really surprising to find that the current system, which leads couples to apportion blame, has been found to increase animosity and makes it harder for ex-partners to maintain civil relationships – let alone co-parent their children.

In proposals announced yesterday the ability to contest a divorce will disappear; couples will have the option of creating a joint application for divorce and there will be no requirement to provide evidence of unreasonable behaviour.

Ham or Corned Beef?

This can only be good news for people like my friend (who shall remain nameless for obvious reasons). Her husband left her, without warning, on the eve of his sixtieth birthday. When she asked why, he cited the lack of cold meat options for his Saturday lunchtime sandwich.

In his eyes this constituted unreasonable behaviour. On saying that, I’m sure there would have been a crusty old Judge somewhere who would have sympathised with him and decreed that his wife’s indecision in the deli department gave him more than enough grounds to grant a divorce.

Critics of the proposals complain that getting out of a marriage is now easier than getting out of a mobile phone contract. I can’t agree. Even if you are not married and living together, splitting up is still a painful and long-winded procedure that can take years to recover from. I can’t believe that anybody decides to break up without a huge amount of soul searching.

Harder to stay together

Besides, although parting might be hard, staying together can be even harder.

When we meet the person of our dreams we are convinced that we will live happily ever after but life isn’t a fairy tale. During the years we spend together there are so many times that we reach a roadblock. So many things that can tear couples apart. Children, or lack of them, bereavements, job pressures, money – or lack of it. Dependent parents, illness. The list is as endless as the argument about how to load the dishwasher or who takes the bins out. So, when two people do decide that they love each other enough to stay together through fat and thin, isn’t that something worth celebrating?

Many couples will mark their tenth wedding anniversary, throw a party for their Silver wedding anniversary or invite family and friends for a gala dinner for their Golden but isn’t such a momentous occasion worth celebrating  in an even more special way?

A blessing in disguise?

A vow renewal service is not a legal or religious ceremony. It can take place anywhere from your own back garden to the poshest hotel. It could happen at a favourite spot that you’ve both loved over the years or in a village hall. It can be as formal or as relaxed as you like and can reflect all that’s happened to you since that day you first fell in love.

My mum and dad dithered over the possibility of renewing their vows or having a blessing of some sort for their Golden wedding anniversary. They threw a huge party, invited everybody they knew and provided enough food and drink for an entire village but they often regretted not giving the occasion the focal point it deserved. They talked about making it fun, having a vote about who most deserved the medal for putting up with the other one, and having a timeline about their lives together but they didn’t.

A family affair

I went to a silver wedding anniversary party recently where the wife stood up and made one of the bravest speeches I’ve heard. She told the assembled friends, family and neighbours that she had been newly married when she first met her current husband but knew immediately she had made a mistake. There followed a painful and illicit affair, a huge fall out and an acrimonious divorce but she remarried and now the couple have three strong and independent children as well as a relationship which was now entering another phase.

It was obvious that she felt the need to share her story with people who may not even have needed to know but I sense that she found it cathartic. That she was somehow ridding herself of the guilt she had at the time and may still feel over her original failed marriage and the people she had hurt. It felt as though she was holding her relationship up to the light and saying to the world, look, we did the right thing. We are still together after 25 years and have brought up a wonderful family.

Not all love affairs are as guilt ridden or dramatic as hers but each one comes with a back story that deserves to be celebrated. Staying together through better or worse is no mean feat so surely you owe it to your relationship to celebrate those milestones by reminding each other just why you fell in love and confirming what you’re going to do in the years that follow.

Because you’re worth it

I will happily conduct a vow renewal ceremony for you in the location of your choice. I will help you, if necessary, to write your vows and tell your love story. The downs as well as the ups. The twists and the turns. As much or as little as you like. It can read like a sitcom or a beautiful love story. A family celebration or something special between the two of you because, as the advert says, you’re worth it.

 

 

Your Life Story

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At least Theresa May knows how people feel about her.

“The Usain Bolt of failure”

Granted, she might prefer not to know. Being told you are the Usain Bolt of failure isn’t something many of us would aspire to. Nor is being told that you have no natural empathy or any of the basic human attributes necessary for leadership. Whatever. As I said, at least she knows.

Most of us, particularly if we’re not politicians or in the public eye, go through life barely aware of what other people think or feel about us. We have no idea whether we’re regarded as brave, patient, idealistic or comical by those that we know or love. And, the harsh reality is, that by the time a group of our family and friends get together and start waxing lyrical about us, we are probably no longer around to bask in the glory of our goodness.

Special birthday present

So, I have a radical plan. Think how special and wonderful it would be for your nearest and dearest to hear how much they were treasured while they were still alive to not only feel the glow of being loved but to realise how their qualities were appreciated and admired?

When my grandmother died she was in her mid eighties and my very large and noisy family assembled, as people do, for the funeral. There were the usual drinks and sausage rolls afterwards, lots of story telling and many memories shared. Then somebody pointed out the inevitable. “Wouldn’t mum/nan have loved to have been here today?”

Of course the irony of that comment is that if she had been there then we wouldn’t have been at her wake. But, just a few years earlier, some family members had contemplated holding an eightieth birthday party for her. The plan was deemed too much trouble. “Mum wouldn’t have enjoyed it”. People might not have come. And yet, all the cousins, brothers, nephews, nieces and surviving children and in-laws pitched up from miles afar for the funeral. How much nicer it would have been had we all got together when she was still there to have enjoyed it – and to have heard all the treasured memories and stories that we were sharing about her?

It’s too late when we die

As Mike and the Mechanics pointed out – it’s too late when we die which leads me nicely back on to my plan. The next special birthday your husband, wife, mother, father or associated family member has, why not throw a party or a special meal? Yes I know you normally do that but what if you also did something a little bit different. Why not get hold of a friendly celebrant (I’m not sure what date you’re intending but I think I might be free) and tell the story of their life and what you value about them?

The beauty of doing this for the living is that it doesn’t have to be sombre and full of tears. It can truly be a celebration of life. An affirmation of all that is good about them. And it can be comical if you’d like it to be. A real focal point to the party.

Celebrate uniqueness

Most of us think we live ordinary lives and have no extraordinary traits. But in essence we do. We all do. So, why not celebrate the uniqueness of your loved one on their special day?

If public displays of affection aren’t quite your thing then I can produce a celebration booklet which can be presented in private!

Funeral for a Mum

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Today it is my sad honour to conduct the funeral of the mother of a good friend of mine.  Although all mum’s are different, it is often the same words that are repeated. Loving, giving, resilient, a shoulder to cry on… We can take these things for granted and then, one day, we are no longer granted that luxury.

I dreamt about my own mum last night. It is not uncommon. She lived in a treehouse and I went to visit her. It was strangely vivid, just like my mum was. So, in honour of my own mum, around the third anniversary of her final goodbye and, in honour of Diane and her lovely family and her mum who “had a smile that could light up a room”, I have dug out the eulogy I presented on that day in April 2016.

If you knew my mum I hope this will bring back memories. If you didn’t then perhaps it will make you feel as though you did.

Larger than Life!

“My mum was often larger than life.

And she was always larger than my dad.

One of the many things Reverend Steer told us  was that today needed to be all about mum. It had to be everything she would want. What she didn’t want was people laughing at her funeral. She wanted mourning not mirth. And now I’ve gone and made you laugh.

I’m not going to apologise for that. You see, the way I look at it, we have two choices. We can choose to be sad that she is gone or we can choose to be happy that she was here. I am planning to choose the second option and I hope you will choose to join me.

I did have some problems when I started writing this tribute. It wasn’t that I didn’t have enough material, there was plenty of that, it was something far more practical. I wasn’t sure what terminology to use. You see, although she was mum to Stuart, Peter and me, she was a wife to my dad, a nanny to Matt and Nathan, a mother-in-law to Jenny, Tracy and Allison, a sister to Ern, a sister-in-law to some of you, an aunt to many of you and a friend to all of you. I then figured that it wouldn’t matter what I called her as the words I used could only be describing one person.

Don’t die a copy…

One of mum’s favourite sayings – and she had quite a few – was “you were born an original, make sure you don’t die a copy”. She certainly didn’t do that.

Mum was born in 1938 which made her 77 when she died. This isn’t old. Not by today’s standards, but she fitted a huge amount of happiness, warmth and love into those decades and, I truly believe, that when she felt unable and too unwell to be the force of nature that she had always been, then she was ready to leave us. If she couldn’t be centre stage any more then she certainly wasn’t going to be the supporting act. Mum, as you will know, always did things on her terms.

I don’t want to make this into a chronological trawl through her life. I don’t want to point out milestones and timelines for offices, shops and factories where she worked or houses and places that she lived. These are just things people do. It’s what people are that really matters and that’s what I want to focus on and remember today.

Mum was contrary, caring and kind.

She could also be feisty, particularly in her younger days. Although she once told me that she wouldn’t have to argue if only people would just agree with her in the first place…

She had so much charisma that, as a shy child and an even shyer teenager, I would watch her with awe and admiration in the faint hope that some of it might spill over onto me.

She was the type of person who could radiate energy and warmth and people would respond to this and gravitate towards her. Possibly without even knowing why they were doing so. She loved people who made her laugh and she made other people laugh. Especially if she thought it would make them feel better.

“but will I be able to swim?”

For most women a mastectomy would be pretty devastating and the surgeon was probably feeling nervous about breaking the news of the radical operation to his patient. He needn’t have worried. Rather than all the normal questions a worried cancer sufferer might ask, mum simply said “but will I be able to swim?” Of course you’ll be able to swim Mrs Terry, he gratefully reassured her. “That’s good” she said “because I couldn’t swim before”.

Funnily enough she finally learnt to swim when she was well into her sixties. If mum wanted to do something then she would do it. And if she didn’t then she wouldn’t. It was as simple as that.

Mum was never the type of person to utter the words “I don’t know” or “I don’t mind”. She always knew her own mind. And things were very black and white.

She didn’t like watching the news. She thought pansies were a waste of garden. She would never wear beige. And, for some reason, she took against Zoe Ball and Gloria Hunniford.

There were a lot of things she didn’t like but plenty of things that she loved.

She loved to dream; she loved films, parties, dancing, Christmas, music, her friends, her children, long conversations, holidays. My dad.

I need to talk about her relationship with my dad because it was the foundation that her life was built upon. This would have been the sixtieth year they had spent together and, like all couples, there were ups and downs. Sickness and health. Poverty and wealth. I’m not disputing that there might have been the odd argument or disagreement. You might have heard some of them… But when the chips were down they stuck together and one of the things I admired so much about them both was their resilience and optimism. My mum had no room for regrets or self-doubt. You always had to make the best of what you had and she always did.

Dad wore the trousers. Mum told him which ones to wear…

Where their relationship and our family were concerned though, my dad always wore the trousers. It was just that my mum always told him which ones to wear.

My mum also loved London and was intensely proud of being a Londoner. Nonetheless they moved to Thetford in 1963 in order to make a better future for their young family and, although she was horribly homesick for a long time, she did what she always did and made the very best of life. Making some lifelong friends and creating some very special memories for us all.

In fact it was to Thetford that I brought some of my Army friends back in 1982. I had forgotten all about it but lots of people have been in touch over these past few weeks with their kind words and memories and one of them told me that she always remembers the first time she met my mum. In her vivid recollection the room was full of light from the recently installed patio doors and mum was wearing a brightly coloured dress. She had made cakes and prepared more food than any of us could possible eat. And she was laughing. I remember thinking, said my friend, what a lovely, happy childhood you must have had. She was right. We did.

It was difficult choosing a piece of music for this occasion. Mum loved all types of music and it was hard to pinpoint one particular song to identify with her. She loved Frank Sinatra and Johnnie Ray. She liked Motown and Abba, rock ‘n’ roll and country. She liked music she could dance to and she even liked the sound of my dad crooning in the bath. However, after much discussion, we chose You Light Up My Life because that was what she said that we did to her and it was definitely what she did for us.

I hope, as you listen to this, you will be filled with the personal happy memories that you have and I hope that we can all take comfort in the happiness she brought to us. Her personal light will never diminish in our memories.”