Friday was Enda and Lillie’s wedding in Galway City, and it was a good one.
No, strike
that. Let’s start again.
Friday was Lillie and Enda’s wedding in Galway City, and it was a really great one.
Weddings
are mostly about the people who are there, and I think that’s one key reason why
this wedding was such a lovely day. There was just a lot of lovely people
there. My day was warm
and sweet and funny, from the very moment we opened the front door of
the hotel and stepped inside. This was not some magic trick on my part. It was
the people, pure and simple, and how lovely they all were.
We immediately
met the groom, Enda Jnr., who had the kind of suit you’d like to get for yourself if you
were getting married. His Mum and Dad, Ann and Enda Snr., were right there too. Enda is Patricia’s brother, and I usually am granted the pleasure of
sitting with him at weddings. Not today. Today he had a whole different seat to
fill. Ann looked beautiful and her default sunny firebrand mode pertained right through the day and long
after I had stumbled off to bed.
There’s
something about a G&T in a big roundy glass that just lets you know that
you’re out. You can try to replicate it at home but it’s just not the same. A
buzz went around that the bride was near, so we all hustled ourselves into the
private area where the wedding was due to take place. We scored a seat a few rows back
and wondered if we were too close, but we toughed it out and were rewarded with
a top view of proceedings. A very well-dressed lady came up to the very front
row and wondered if she’d be okay to sit there. I started to explain to her that the
front row was probably reserved for immediate family when a gentle nudge from Patricia
advised me that this was the Mother of the Bride. Apparently, women can identify
Mothers of the Bride without actually knowing who they are. Another key
difference between the sexes had thus been identified.
I thought the
ceremony was really lovely. Lily was stunning in her bridal dress, and we've already covered Enda back up the text. The couple’s two sons were both highly present
in the proceedings, culminating in the creation of an artwork made from
coloured sand which the whole little family delighted in making. For a moment,
there seemed to be no ceremony, no huge event. Just Mum, Dad and the two kids
at play, being guided, messing up a little bit and, ultimately, making
something special.
To the bar where
we scored a table and a big platter of hors d'oeuvres all to ourselves. The lady who had sung the
eclectic music from the wedding ceremony (You’ve Got a Friend in Me), now set up
across from us and started singing live to some gentle accompaniment from her
technology. She had a lovely voice. After a while, she started to take requests,
each of which she delivered with style and grace. I offered her one of my hors
d’oeuvres, but she politely declined.
I always find
great delight in meeting my Brother-in-Law, John. We hit the bar and had a
respective pint and a glass of Guinness and started a conversation that
proceeded to weave its way though the entire day. Topics covered included
Quantum Physics, works derived from the work of Jane Austen, Bob Dylan, the
Housing Market, Bargain Glasses and our mandatory heated disagreement which this
time concerned the year that Jackson Browne played Lisdoonvarna. John is the very best.
Dinner came around and
I had Eamon on one side and John on the other, with Patricia right across the
table. An ideal arrangement. Eamon has a few years on me, and he is getting
ready to jump out of an aeroplane in a few weeks. I asserted my view that he is a feckin’ lunatic.
I seem to have turned into my Dad in many ways, one of which is a need to try
to build a rapport with the persons serving dinner. My Dad had mercenary
intentions in doing this as he always wanted to score a second helping of baked
Alaska. I have no such desire; I think it’s just in my genes. Dinner rolled
along with no sign of speeches. A lovely little girl, the daughter of a couple at our table, rifled her
activity pack and found tiny stickers of coloured rainbows and I was gifted a
particularly fetching one on the back of my hand. I treasured it right up until my pre-bedtime ablutions.
Speeches
are always a high point for me. The acid smell of nervous sweat that gently emanates
from the participants is like ambrosia to my senses. The food of the Gods, that is,
not the creamed rice.
Lily delivered
a compact, admirable speech. She is very much someone I wish I knew better. We
meet from time to time, of course, but it is always at some family moment or
other where time and opportunity do not always align. She is an admirable
person who I see as having warmth and determination in roughly equal measure. Hopefully
in the coming years, we can sit down and I can demonstrate first-hand what a
big eejit I am.
The speeches
did not disappoint. Conor, Enda’s brother, was best man and the best fun in his
speech was when he ribbed his brother warmly about such diverse matters as the maturing
ability of his left foot and Enda’s youthful inability to progress beyond a
second can. The fun in this was mainly derived from Enda’s seemingly heartfelt
annoyance at Conor’s pronouncements. The subliminal effect was of two brothers
of great closeness who have had a lifetime together to learn exactly how
far to push each other and exactly where to stop.
Enda’s Snr’s
gentle voice did not trouble the quirky microphone. Enda cannot help but be
himself, no matter what the situation and ‘himself’ is such a good thing to be
that it carries us all along with him. His speech was warm and funny, and we were
with him though every word, as we will always invariably be.
The Father
of the Bride delivered an old school speech with a beautifully timed gag about
gardening right in the middle. Kudos from this writer for that. His love and
respect for his daughter shone through and I felt I knew her a little better
when he regained his seat.
Tables were
cleared and a lively band took up residence beside the bar. Hard working and entirely
convincing, they filled the floor with ease at moments when so many bands can struggle.
I always enjoy watching the band at weddings and these boys worked hard, every
one of them multitasking their way through the set. Including the drummer, who
seemed to be on Social Media duties while maintaining a dirty backbeat.
I am of the elder generation now and I don’t generally last into the traditional wee small hours. At around one-ish, Patricia and I executed a reduced version of an Irish Goodbye and slipped away.
From where I was sitting, standing, and stealing late
night pizza, it was a most excellent wedding, full of love and fun. Thank you
for having us, Lillie and Enda, we hope to see you again soon.
Many congratulations
to Enda and Lillie. They really make the most splendid couple, and this meagre
blog wishes them many long decades of love and health and adventure with their
lovely children and with each other.
As they
said somewhere back in the Book of Tobit; “Grant that they may find mercy and
may grow old together.”
4th
May 2025
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