I am now a mother-in-law! And things can’t be too bad as Cathal presented me with a giant bunch of flowers before he whisked his new bride off to Ireland. The scene was quite memorable, the car packed to the gunnels, every single space squashed up with cases, plastic bags, flowers, DRESS, suit, and finally Gerry had to sit in the front wearing her tiara. There was no safe place to store it. The fairy tale end of a lovely wedding!

The whole occasion flashed past, and it was so unlike me not to be snapping, recording everything, but I thought I could depend on the official photographer’s pictures, but unfortunately we don’t get them for another 2 weeks. So annoying. In the meantime I posted pictures taken at home before we left on Facebook, but here they are again. Our own camera was left behind in the house in our hurry to get everyone out, so sadly I have few pictures at the moment of Cathal.

Natasha, Jill and Gerry spent the morning getting ‘done’ and I was amazed at the transformation of all three girls. Janice wielded her magic tongs and pins and suddenly all three were ready to ‘go to the ball’.

Tasha had been brilliant, organising a magician to entertain and bamboozle us, and Gerry was just so delighted he didn’t take his clothes off!

The venue was lovely, old and historic and the harpist plinked her tunes as we all assembled in the room where the couple would take their vows. Sadly Dave could not make it as he was sailing on a diving vessel on his way to Angola, so Nick walked Gerry down the aisle. He had flown back from Australia, especially. The service was lovely, and my friend Irene, who had made cute teddies to hold the wedding favours of Glenfiddich, provided me with a special pack of tissues, which were used I may say. I did miss Irene herself… sadly away in America doing grandmother duties.

Weddings provide more tears than funerals, a minister once told me. But they are tears of joy and happiness, and they are a time when you reflect on the vows being repeated. Was it so long ago since you yourself made them? Was it so long ago since that bride standing there so princess-like once dominated every waking minute of my life? Pictures flooded my mind, and I had to blink as I listened to the words, see her give her hand for the ring, and try and reconcile the tall, slim lady in front of me with the hooligan that wouldn’t get out of the drain!

I pictured her growing up,

and later in my speech I tried to pull it together with a flower theme. I will add a little excerpt here.

“When I thought of saying a few words, I just wanted to say it with flowers. I wanted to make a bouquet of images associated with Gerry as she grew up.

 Our family roamed the world a bit, so it was orchids that came to mind when I thought of Singapore, where Gerry was born. The orchid is delicate and exotic, and represents love, beauty, luxury and strength. All qualities I associate with Gerry. Ever since she was a little girl she showed fierce loyalty to her friends and to her brother and sister, and was often wise beyond her years. She would always excuse a slight or a fault and try and see the reasoning that went behind the action.

 When Gerry was seven we moved to Glenelg in the West Coast of Scotland and it is there that I think of her in the garden, doing handstands, surrounded by daisies. This is a flower that represents innocence and loyal love.

She attended Portree High School on the Isle of Skye and there, surrounded by the mountains, it is the heather that comes to mind, a tenacious plant often associated with good luck.  Perhaps it was on Skye that she developed her love for mysticism and history and she read avidly through those years.

 And finally she completed her education in Edinburgh and went on to work as PA for Sir David Steel at the time when he was presiding officer in the new Scottish Parliament. I think of the thistle, the emblem of Scotland signifying bravery, courage, loyalty endurance and fortitude. It has a certain nobility. As one great writer said:

‘Though we cannot beat, nor like, nor use the damn thing, we must at least respect it as a formidable foe’.

 Having two beautiful daughters, one so fair and one so dark, I planted two roses on either side of the door, representing the fairy story of Snow White and Rose Red, never realising the significance of the two colours. Alone the red rose stands for love and beauty but together with the white it stands for unity.

 When Gerry met Cathal, I used to smile when I visited them, and saw the bunches of roses around their flat, some fresh and some dried out, all memories of dinners, celebrations and anniversaries, and today they came together with the most famous Burn’s song, ‘My Love is like a red red rose’, played on the harp in the building where the poet once drank.

 Cathal brings the Irish shamrock to the collection. St Patrick saw it as a symbol of the Holy Trinity, but world-wide it is seen as a symbol of good luck.  Cathal has brought so much happiness to Gerry, it is good to see them together, for they have the humour and friendship that will stand them in good stead for a happy life. He may have won my daughter’s heart, but on the day he helped me make a carrot cake, he also won mine!

 But today, as I said, I am saying it with flowers. I want to present to you both a posy, it is made up with a thistle for courage, loyalty, and endurance, white heather for tenacity, a shamrock for luck, and a red and white rose for love and unity.”

I had to smile at the dancing. The night before, Gerry could barely move in her dress and high shoes. She carefully manoeuvred herself around, but on ‘the day’, with a couple of champagnes, and a ring on her finger, Madonna belting out loud and strong, and all the girls from Portree High School and Glenelg Primary School, plus sister and new Irish in-laws… she was quite the rock queen! I couldn’t see an inhibition in sight.

Needless to say at that point of the evening, as in all Highland Weddings, ‘the lads’ were holding up their lager cans and huddled at the door with a wee cigarette!

My schoolgirl friend, Sue, and I found ourselves bopping along most of the night, with John and Mike weaving about us, showing more stamina than all the youth of County Kerry! The elderly O’Riordans were huddled away in a corner, talking Irish things, and protecting their ears from the insistent pounding of the disco. Quite rightly so…. the DJ would not be told. He was determined to splinter our eardrums. We did manage to have a couple of Scottish dances, but Oh dear God, it was bad… worse than when I used to teach dancing in Hanoi… I thought some of those folk had two left feet… by comparison they were Fred Astaire.  BUT… to be fair I doubt I could do the Riverdance routines!

Bridesmaid Jill had me in stitches as she recounted the loss of a Prada handbag that fell into the cistern of the Ladies’ toilet. Annabelle, from Glenelg, had flung it up on to what, she thought, was a high shelf, but it turned out to be a faux wall, and there was no shelf, and the beautiful pink velvet handbag plopped down the back, into the cistern and was submerged. This resulted in a lot of serious IQ moments, and eventually the best man joined 3 coat hangers together and, leaning so far over that only his feet were showing, he managed to hook the sodden mess out of the water. Oh the shame. I think the official photographer has a snap of this… so more later!

Jill told me that after John and I and all the other ‘older ones’ had left, the dance floor was invaded by ‘the lads’ and all the girls, and the place took off, with dancing and amazing energy, even break dancing. The finale was Runrig’s Loch Lomond with the bride and groom inside a circle. Gerry said she couldn’t have wished for anything better.

Meanwhile John and I returned home to a bombshell – make up, tongs, clothes, shoes, coffee cups everywhere. It took us almost an hour to get it straight. BUT… who cares! I loved it all; it was fun, alive, emotional, beautiful and full of all the people I love and care for. I just wish I could have had more of my friends there, but I was severely rationed.

Now, it’s back to normal. The Dyson has done its thing, the sheets are washed and put away, Nick left yesterday for Australia, Natasha and Leo are back in Wales, and John is revamping the garden, pulling out old rubbishy bushes and restructuring paving. He looks very busy… perhaps he needs a coffee!

We are finished with New Zealand now, and next Wednesday we leave for 7 weeks in Cyprus. I am looking forward to that, lots to explore.

So goodbye from the Mother-of-the-bride. I will add the formal photos when I get them but will leave you with a shot of two Morrisons’ girls still in their prime!