The speeches, the tears, the jokes, the dad dancing – after months of missing out on social events, it’s all wonderful
I went to a wedding at the weekend. That shouldn’t be a remarkable statement, but of course it is. It’s been a strange summer: the promise of normal life returning hasn’t quite materialised. Instead it has felt tentative, cautious. So I wasn’t sure how this big social event would feel. There was no cap on numbers, no social distancing, no miserable insistence on everything being outside, despite the season’s atrocious weather. It was a proper wedding, in the old style. And it was wonderful.
After 18 months of deprivation, I forgot what it was like to feel part of a community. Robbed of really celebrating these major life milestones – birthdays and anniversaries, births and christenings, weddings and funerals – life has felt atomised and dreary. That sense of connection you get from being around other human beings, including those you don’t know well, has been absent. So a huge, unapologetic, exuberant wedding was always going to be quite the experience.
