Just keep paddling!

When you’re engaged the sun always shines, people are always pleasant and helpful and everything you need to do goes exactly to plan.

 Though this hasn’t exactly been my experience, despite my high expectations, there are certainly elements of truth to this. People, for example, really are pleasant and helpful. As usual it is the human race that steps up to and meets my expectations. People love talking about weddings; they’ll ask you how you met and how long you’ve known each other (‘through a mutual friend at a church activity’ and ‘not long enough!’) , and the most daunting question of all: “So, are you all ready?” which is usually followed up by the inevitable, “I mean, you’ve got your dress and everything?”

 With sixteen days to go I can confirm that I have my dress… now it’s just the last minute rush around for the “and everything”!

 Fortunately the collection and organization of the “and everything” is another area in which people could not be more brilliant if they tried. I can’t even begin to mention all of the people who’ve offered help, talents and support to make the wedding happen. We’ve been able to borrow things and we’ve been encouraged and given ideas and just generally helped along the way. If this is a river we’re paddling down, the people that are lending this kind of aid are the current that keeps us away from dangerous rocks and help us to maintain our course. When it's been difficult to paddle because of other distractions, we've still been moving ahead.

 I still have a medical review paper (on the subject of tic suppression in Tourette’s syndrome) to complete and things to do at medical school before I can fully devote my last week and a bit to all things wedding; but I have already been given the gift of understanding friends who have enabled me to have time to get things done when I’ve needed to.

 Now… it’s time to get excited.

In two days it’s Friday… and two Fridays after that day Ben and I will be getting married. How lucky am I?

 It’s approaching... and it’s getting more and more real as if every second between me and that moment blurs it a little and the fog of those days is rapidly lifting. The stark colours, sounds and lights are close now. They feel much more tangible. With that knowledge comes a calm assurance that I’m where I am supposed to be.

 Once again, I was able to stay over at the place WE will soon call home for the last two nights as Ben was away for work. I’m going to love that place. I think there’s something special and almost sacred about it: Our First Home. It’s that shift in mind-set that Ben has probably already had to some extent because he’s been living away from his parents’ home for some time; the shift when “going home” no longer means going back to the place where you grew up- but instead going to the place that you are continuing your development… together.

 I’m grateful for the time spent in my parent’s house. It's been everything anyone could wish for as a start in life. I'm grateful to be marrying someone who comes from an equally wonderful home. But I’m excited to be able to create our own home. I’m excited to decide where we’re going to hang pictures and I’m even excited to have our inevitable culinary disasters together- though, I believe we’ll be more competent than some may anticipate! (even Ben!) A friend recently asked me what our "accent colours" are going to be in our lovely magnolia expanse...