October the first.
Yesterday, I had a moment, a moment of being overwhelmed.
I was ordering the Groomsmen's gifts from Etsy (£5off available here) and The Groom’s brother messaged me via Facebook asking about the tie colours, telling me all about his suit, asking me to send a picture of the ties so he can match a hankie…
We don’t want hankies, we don’t want the paisley, chequered, patterned, shiny hankies. The Groom wants a pocket square, a white one, and a tie but not a shiny tie. The groomsmen don’t have matching suits so wouldn't it look best if their accessories match?
Simultaneously the Vicar messaged me on Facebook. Have we finished the order of service? Can we post it to this address?
No, no I haven’t got the order of service. No, I haven’t got one printed, I haven’t even got one in design. I've been putting it off and I felt caught out. I feel as though he had placed an expectation that it would've been sorted last year.
My stomach flipped with butterflies. I haven’t spoken the the Grooms family about the wedding, I was kind of reminded they’ll be there. Silly as it sounds, in my head the only people present at my wedding are the people I’m talking to at the time. I was jolted into reality – there is gonna be loads of people there. Lots! I feel sick.
I don’t have an order of service yet because it’s the most important thing – if that makes sense to you then feel free to explain it to me. But, I’m assuming that I’ve avoided it, partly because i don’t really know what to put in it & partly because it is a symbol, a token, a memento of the most important day of my life (alongside childbirth). This is it and like motherhood I assume a new identity, a wife - a new name, Moon.
Mrs Karis Moon
I don’t think I like it! I’m not grown up enough. My new name sounds odd, in my ears –silly! My children are already Moon’s – I should just suck it up and get on with it, unite in name after all it’s just a name. What about Robinson-Moon?
Mrs Karis Robinson-Moon
Perhaps I’ll keep my professional name as Robinson. Oh man for years my name has tripped off my tongue, I’m used to the rhythmical uppy down-ness of it.
So name aside, I feel sick at the word wedding, sick with nerves. It’s like walking out on stage all those years ago. I used to tell myself to look out, look out & up. Feel the light warm my face. Look out and NOT at the first 6 rows.
I’ll tell myself the same on the day, look out, look up and straight into the eyes of the man I’m about to marry. Keep focused on him & let everyone melt away.