I dread to think what I’m like as a mother-in-law.
(No, don’t ask my son-in-law or daughter-in law. Too feart to find oot.)
Suffice to say, my loon and his wife, who’ve just got back from their 15th wedding anniversary pilgrimage to New York, have been virtually “stalked” by me almost every step of the way. I can only imagine fit she’s been sayin’ in private aboot her man’s obsessive mum. Sorry, quine.
They first visited the Big Apple in 2001, sending home pictures of themselves on a glorious, sunshiny, blue-sky May 11, around 9.30am, at the top of the World Trade Center. Four months later, to the hour, day and glorious weather, the terrorists struck.
Come 2009 and their wedding, everything set for a gorgeous venue up Deeside, until… They changed their minds. Decided they wanted something low-key, in the place they loved: NYC.
The two families started thinkin’ aboot travel plans, until… Oor Romeo and Juliet announced they wanted to be totally on their own for the ceremony in the famous City Hall. They’d have a reception a few weeks after they came home as Mr and Mrs.
Losh, was I shocked. How could my wee lamb (6ft 4in) be married without his mummy beside him?
A white (flower) wedding
So, it came to pass on April 30, 2009, they were set to tie the knot. An old friend from Aberdeen, who then lived in New York, was their only witness, and also agreed to take pictures. Readers, imagine how I was up to 99 on the run-up to the ceremony. Then, the day before, I’d an inspiration.
It occurred to me they wouldn’t have ordered flowers. On to the internet, located a florist near their hotel, ordered a white-rose buttonhole for him, white-rose bouquet for her, and another bouquet for their friend. Before they left their room, my wee boy texted me: “Just going to get married.” How I sobbed.
Little did I know that when they got into their taxi to the ceremony, not knowing there were flowers to collect, the receptionist with the bouquets caught sight of them only at the last minute and managed to hand them over.
A whilie later, I got the text: “Just married.” Water oot my een and pourin’ doon my schnozzle. Man, I was ower the moon when the first pictures of them in Central Park came through: this lovely couple with the stunning white floories. I felt I’d done my bit for the occasion.
Their NY-themed reception in Aberdeen was a delight: tables named after areas of the famous city, and loads of New York, New York music. You can imagine how I felt when I had a wee word with the bride’s mum, confiding in her that I’d been soo tempted to phone her and arrange for both of us to turn up as surprise guests at the NY ceremony. Sez she: “I would have been with you in a flash.” Aaaaargh!
Meanwhile, I instructed my loon to film as much as he could of last week’s holiday. Getting onto the plane… the subway… their hotel… even up in the crown of the Statue of Liberty. I was fair thrilled. Then it struck me – fit wis my daughter-in-law thinkin’ aboot her ever-present mother-in-law? Too bad. He’s my son!
Moreen Simpson is a former assistant editor of the Evening Express and The Press and Journal, and started her journalism career in 1970
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