It’s been seven years.
Seven years and one day since I met my friends at the pub at the bottom of the hill.
Them, having made the journey up from South Wales. One journey I don’t miss.
Seven years since we prepared a hall for a wedding reception. Panicking over missing cake stands.
Seven years since mum, CM and I made our way across to Gibson Mill.
How we managed to organise a wedding as our daughter hit fifteen months.
What we would say if the best man’s speech had contained a prophecy.
Whether we appreciated everything we had on that day.
Of the friendship which surrounded us.
Of the love of our families.
Seven years, and yet lives older.
Him, a stay-at-home parent to three children.
Us living on the coast, in South Wales.
Me, back to uni again, still where I always have been.
And we have different ordinary moments.
No longer of bank holidays making our way down the canal on a pub crawl ending in Hebden Bridge.
No longer of last-minute long-haul holidays.
Now, I wonder where our days go.
I spent yesterday wondering what mental capacity I held when I thought at 4pm I should bundle the children in the car for a trip to Ikea.
Today I’ll wonder why our wedding anniversary is spent with our three children celebrating a child turning 6.
I’ll wonder, and I’ll remind myself.
I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I know why my children play up as we circle a store where I refuse to let them climb all over furniture and refuse to buy them anything they like. They are our children.
I know why there’s no place I’d rather be on a wedding anniversary then celebrating a school mate’s birthday. They are our children.
And I know how lucky we are. To live each day with each other. To live each day with such kind, intelligent, mischievous children.
And just because, this song always reminds me: