Goin' to the Chapel of Love

The day started overcast and looked like rain, but that was misleading because it turned into the most beautiful spring weather for the loveliest of weddings.  Jenny stayed at our hotel on Saturday night after the party at Simon and Maggie's beautiful manor, and the scurrying to get ready began soon after breakfast.   Lucky for me that the extent of my preparations was to don the rented "morning suit" (tux with tails sans hat).

About 2:15 p.m. the group started to meet downstairs and the bride emerged from her preparations, looking absolutely beautiful and getting approving looks from every woman - guest and employee - who happened to be in the vicinity. Her strapless gown, according to Cheryl, was rouched satin with an assymetrical bodice, fit-and-flair gown,, with "eight million buttons on the back".   She wore a shoulder length veil and the look was really stunning. All that was left was to pack everyone up into cabs, and save the beautiful, custom 2014 Land Rover (with a television)  ride for herself, Cheryl, and I.  With only a small struggle, she managed to get herself and her poofy dress into the front seat and off we headed toward Roxton Park.

 

The weather had started to break at that point - at least the threat of rain seemed diminished.  And, when we arrived at the gate of Roxton Chapel, there stood about 15 local ladies who had turned out to see the soon-to-be Mrs. Bath.   They smiled, they clapped politely - it was absolutely charming - to show their respect for the soon-to-be daughter in law of the esteemed Mr. and Mrs. Bath.

Down the sidewalk 20 yards and we were at the back of the Roxton Chapel with Rev. Damp and the maids of honor, Sarah and Emily.   The music swelled and in we stepped, with Jenny on my right arm, beaming.  When we practiced this yesterday, there was a noticeable lump in my throat and tears nearly spilled out at the thought of what was to transpire, but today magically they all stayed in place and to the front of the wonderful small chapel we moved . . .  slowly . .  . and it was a bit like what being famous must be like as I could hear the whir and click of camera shutters with a few flashes.

My part was rather small but turned out to really make an imprint on the British guests. When asked during the ceremony "Who gives this woman away", my response was "Her mother and I".   Apparently that was incredibly novel over here.   Ray Urban told me  the woman next to him let out an audible gasp and later at the reception I had at least 10 different people come to me to tell me they had never heard that before and thought it was "lovely" and "brilliant" and "touching".  My late mother in heaven was surely smiling at that as I recall how many times she made my father practice that line so she'd get her due when he handed off my sister in her wedding in 1970.

Granddaughter Chloe continued her pattern of excellent behavior, this time as the flower girl, and sat relatively quietly - other than those two or three times her flowers seemed to slip out of her hand and hit the floor.   The whole group watched the love of Anthony Peter Bath and Jennifer Orion Gordon unfold before our very eyes, and before we knew it, they were husband and wife.   The recessional, Jenny said, was a nod to me!  "All You Need is Love" played on a very old and beautiful pipe organ rolled out as we left the chapel for a sunny day (yes, sun in England!) - it doesn't get much better than that.

Extremely well-organized pictures followed and to the fabulous reception in the marquee (very large deluxe tent) followed for the 120 guests (and tell me I couldn't write for The New York Times wedding section!).  A magnificent pork dinner (two kinds) and assorted accompaniments, champagne, and a wonderful dessert followed and then it was time for "the speeches" (as the British call them). 

I was up first and got the group off to a good start with my initial words about being the token American of our litle token American group, but that "The Americans love the British!"   You would've thought it was a boxing match with the rousing cheer I got in return by the many almost or fully tipsy British guests.  I was followed by very heartfelt words from groom Anthony and then the words of the best man.  The last part of the evening was the opening of the nicest dance floor (lights inside it) and the crowd swelled to it - including your own intrepid blogger - for an evening of dancing to mostly 90's and newer music.  Cheryl and I socialized with others after the Marvin Gaye song three or four into the lineup.

But what was the most fabulous wedding I've ever attended wasn't over yet.  About 10:30 p.m. we were called outside for one more surprise, and were treated to a 20 minute fireworks show that, proportionally, rivaled Red, White, and Boom!  No one I talked to had ever seen a fireworks show at a wedding and it was spectacular.  We gathered our troupe and started heading back to the hotels about 11:30, once more enjoying (at least in my cab) the repartee with the English cab driver who, himself, was absolutely charming.  

Up at 9:00 a.m. on Sunday for the next adventure - the family and friends brunch at Roxton Park and then, as Jeff calls it, the beginning of "Dad's part of the trip" - Liverpool.   We'll be arriving there about 5 or 6 p.m. tonight, just in time to wander around and get the vibe of "Can't Buy Me Love" that must surely be floating through the air.