A Ring Is Not Like A Triangle


Nine weeks from now, I will be legally wed and my groom and I will have just completed our ceremonial sack race. Today, in preparation, we did something very important:

Guess who just bought their wedding rings!

A post shared by Abigail (@abbii_patrick) on

The time until that day is quickly slipping away, and we have so much left to do, but we’re giving ourselves the time to reflect and enjoy every minute of it.

Last night we went to visit our friends, one of whom will be the celebrant to our unofficial ceremony, and the other who is designing and making our wedding cake. They’re a wonderful, married couple who, I’ve had individual connections with. Katie, used to babysit me when I was a bratty kid, and David was the youth leader at the local church when I was a brattier teenager. I knew them separately and then discovered they were engaged. Now in nine weeks’ time, the day after their 10th wedding anniversary, they will be playing key roles in my own wedding. It is such a blessing.

When I posted the above photo online earlier today, an old friend with whom I’ve recently reconnected online commented congratulating me. It made me realise that the last time I saw her was when she was pregnant and I had just met my hubby to be. Now her baby girl is seven, and I’m preparing to be a wife. She was my underage drinking buddy when I was 14,  now we’re grown and paving our own paths in life.

My fiancé and I have spent our relationship from one extreme to another – from living in separate countries to living on top of each other in one bedroom in a shared house. He cared for me when I was so ill I was bedridden, and I’ve been with him through major heart surgery. We’ve had adventures and lazy mornings together, partied with friends and cherished the times alone. He wakes me up with pictures of puppies, so he’s definitely a keeper.

Amidst all of the soppiness of being in love though, there are things about the wedding planning that I never want to forget. Things may be clouded in years to come by the stress of the wedding planning and the happiness of the day itself. So here are things I’ll always want to remember about the last two years of wedding planning:

  • The feeling of trying on my wedding dress for the first time and knowing this would be the one, despite insisting I tried on more.
  • The hilarity of my sister having to stand on the bed while I tried to dive into my dress when we tried it on at home.
  • The glint of the gold on Daniel’s finger reflected in the mirror when he tried on his wedding ring at the shop.
  • The sheer excitement every time something comes through the post for the wedding. I think I actually jumped when the wooden post box arrived for the cards.
  • The big cheesy grin on Daniel’s face when he looked at the two rings in their double ring box, side by side.
  • The tingle in my fingers as I typed “Mr. & Mrs. Patrick” on the personalisation request for our wedding favour orders.
  • The morning I woke up to a message from my friend in Australia telling me she had booked her flights to come to the wedding and the way it brightened my mood for the rest of the day.
  • The feel of the sun on my back on Mother’s Day as we sat in the garden with my mum and sister, talking through plans and logistics for the wedding.
  • The nervousness and excitement as we sat in the travel agents, booking our honeymoon.
  • The moment we suggested to each other to have a camping wedding, laughed it off and then decided “actually…”
  • The chatter and excitement on the journey back from Hay-On-Wye after we had found the campsite we chose to celebrate our special day.
  • The nervousness I felt at asking David to be the celebrant to the wedding, and the tears on my cheeks when he said yes.
  • The tears on my cheeks when my sister agreed to be maid of honour and said: “I love you, babe.”
  • The first taste of the burgers we decided to have for the wedding and the excitement of taking the chilli to the hospital so Daniel could try it too.

Life can be wonderful when it wants to be.




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