Monday, 24 September 2018
What if I'm not actually properly married? #WeAreTheProblems
I overthink everything to make the world a happier place
What if I'm not actually properly married?
I realised last week that I might not actually be definitely married.
I love my Long-Suffering Wife, but my heart did a proper leap.
This was really exciting.
Like when she gets a haircut, and it makes her look like somebody else.
(And then I'm getting blamed for complimenting it).
It's all because we wanted to involve my disabled Mum in the wedding ceremony.
First we had to break her out of the maximum security nursing home...
Turns out you just press the green button next to the door.
But she was really immobile - with Secondary Progressive Multiple Sclerosis.
It's Multiple because one sclerosis is never enough.
So we're getting married in this Registry Office.
A place that reminds you of the deep commitment you're about to make... to paperwork.
But I'm not sure I fully understood all of the certification.
This is the biggest dedication in my life.
Isn't that enough?
Because now I've got to "give notice" to the Council.
I don't think they can cope with potholes and alternating wheeliebins...
But sure, come and get involved in our lifelong passionate romantic commitment.
You're good at one-way systems.
We can make this work.
On the county website they say it's to
"publicly display the notice for a 28 day period."
Like we're parking ourselves on each other.
We've got to get the right permit.
I guess it's from the days where somebody - somebody who's been checking the publicly displayed notices...
They can then "object"... because they know that you're already married.
But I'm thinking:
How can you go through life knowing that you've objected to somebody's wedding?
Isn't that something that would come up during every waking moment?
Most people are worried about wearing the right shoes, or sitting in the right place.
Can you imagine adding an objection to that list of things you'll forget?
And how did THEY get an invite anyway?
If you managed to get an Objector into your own wedding congregation, you don't deserve to get married.
And you know it's not easy getting the council to give you the "notice" in the first place.
You've got to have an address, you've got to bring 2 current utility bills to prove it...
I think that's why they say you shouldn't live together before you're married.
It is impossible to get 4 separate utility bills in one place.
But I know I am a hopeless romantic.
As in, I am hopeless at being romantic.
Because under "address" on the form, I put Splitsville - as in that's where I was leaving.
Didn't go down well.
They said I didn't have the right postcode.
But wouldn't it be great to get your Marriage Notice revoked?
To be so bad at being a couple that they actually take it away from you?
And then we'd be like all on the run... as a pair of engaged renegades.
Showing up at some Civic Centre or County Hall.
Without the proper documentation.
"Do you take Neil to be your Lawless Loose Cannon?"
So it's our Wedding Day.
And there's this part of the ceremony where two Witnesses have to sign the Register.
In pen and ink.
And I think this is where I went slightly wrong.
We wanted to involve my profoundly disabled Mum.
So that she didn't feel like some total burden upstaging the bride.
She was well up for it.
And at the right part of the wedding - it's on video and everything - I wheel her to the table where my Brother-In-Law is finishing signing the Register...
And I put the pen in her hand.
And she gives me this big smile.
And she pulls her body - her MS riddled body - over to one side to get closer to me.
And I lean in because she probably wants to say something lovely.
And she whispers.
"I can't hold the pen."
And I put my hand on hers.
To grip it.
And then she giggles.
"I can't move my arm either."
And I'm looking around but nobody can see this.
And I have no idea what to do.
And everybody's waiting for this thing to get signed.
So then I start guiding her hand in that signature that's scorched in my retina since I was a kid.
Watching her sign all those cheques and credit card receipts.
For the toys in the department store and the takeaways in the Chinese.
It all came flooding back.
I could see that signature once again.
In only remembered all of this last week.
And without missing a beat my Dad goes "That means you're not married! You can get out of it!"
And then without another breath "Oh no but I really like this one!"
He was so conflicted.
Just like my documentation.
But you know what?
I think Weddings are all about having old things around us.
Old cars, old dresses, old relatives.
And sometimes, sometimes we've got to accept that they just don't work.
Plus maybe I shouldn’t’ve signed it “Booooyah!”
With eight exclamation marks.
Try my new book!
What if I always think I've always given myself a stroke? And not in the good way. #WeAreTheProblems
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