January 16th, 1992

January 16th, 1992

At home, England

“Who gets married on Leap Year Day?” Pamsy screeched on the phone. “You’ll only get an anniversary gift every four years!” We continued chatting about my upcoming nuptials and when I told her how brutal Winter is in New England, she joked, “You might be better off wearing a white snowsuit and gloves!”

I have no idea how I’ll balance wearing something I like versus something I won’t freeze in! Mum, on the other hand, already bought a hat and not one but four new outfits, all of which would be much more suited to a wedding in Hawaii.

Planning a wedding while your fiancé is involved in rescue efforts at sea, for people fleeing their homeland in makeshift boats, seems frivolous so I’m glad our wedding isn’t going to be some frothy frock affair.

Growing up, I never gave much thought to my wedding, unlike some of my friends that have been planning “the big day,” since they started talking! I’ve never really understood putting all that emphasis on one day, when the really important part is the years that follow.

I’m excited that we at least have a date but I wish William didn’t have to head back out to sea so soon after. Between his work and mine, we decided to put our Honeymoon on hold until I get my Green Card and can live in the States legally, but who knows when that will be.

It’s crazy to think that in just six plus weeks, I’ll be married!

 

December 31st, 1991

December 31st, 1991

Benalmadena, Spain

Mum was mightily surprised this afternoon, when she opened the door to find me standing there.

“Happy Anniversary!” I exclaimed, attempting not to drop the bag of Duty Free goodies, as Mum lunged at me for a hug.

“Tom! Tom!” She yelled. “C’mere!”

Dad was out on the balcony, his face turned to the sun.

“He can’t hear you, Mum, the door’s shut.”

“Och, yer a wee rascal,” she chuckled. “You should have told us you were coming.”

“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” I said, removing the bottles of Champagne and chocolates I bought at the airport.

“Ooohh,” Mum cooed, pointing to the cabinet behind me. “Glasses are in there. Did you just arrive?”

“Uh-huh, the flight got in at half two.”

“Did you get the train?”

I nodded. “So easy isn’t it, and really inexpensive. Plus, you know me, I like to people watch.”

Mum squeezed me tightly. “Dad will be so happy to see you!”

“Looks like you’ve been enjoying the sun,” I said, just as the Champagne cork popped, making Mum jump. “Gets me every time,” she laughed as I filled the glasses, the bubbles fizzing away.

“The sound of celebration,” I said, keeping an eye on Dad as we crept in his direction.

Slowly, Mum opened the door and stepped outside as I remained out of view.

“Och, Champagne, now that’s fancy,” Dad said.

“Aye well, it’s no every day you celebrate twenty-five years of marriage,” Mum uttered, as I peered out to see her leaning in for a peck, before handing the glass to Dad.

“Where’s yours, Liz?”

“Right here,” I said, stepping into view.

A look of what I can only describe as astonishment flashed across Dad’s face. “Ya wee rascal,” he said, shooting up, wrapping me in a hug.

“That’s what Mum said!”

“You’re meant to be in New York.”

I shook my head. “Sorry, that was a white lie.”

We raised our glasses and clinked them together.

“Happy Anniversary to my lovely Mum and Dad, and here’s to many more!”

“Thank you, hen,” Dad smiled. “What a brilliant surprise.”

“Certainly is,” Mum said. “Oh, and Happy Hogmanay.”

“That’s right,” I said, looking at my watch. “Only eight hours of nineteen ninety-one remain!”

“Here’s to my two favourite lassies,” Dad said. “Here’s to us.”

“Here’s to us,” Mum and I echoed with another clink.