The Best Day Of My Life

It’s Thursday afternoon and I’m about to head home from work but first I duck into the boss’ office to remind him I’m on leave tomorrow.

“Hey Boss, I’m heading home but wanted to remind you I won’t be in tomorrow. I’ve a wedding to attend,” I explain.

“Thanks Simone, I had forgotten. Have a great day and enjoy your weekend. We’ll see you Monday,” he replied.

With that I walk out the door and head home, jam packed with excitement.

Yes I have a wedding to attend tomorrow but what nobody realises is it is my wedding, my dream day, that I will be attending. One I’ve been dreaming about all of my life.

I rush home, pick up my suitcase and head to the resort where I have a room booked. I didn’t want to be home when my husband-to-be arrived. We all know it’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding.

At the resort I meet up with my matron-of-honour, Diane and we check into our room. It’s going to be a night for just the two of us, where we get to do all those girly things to make me look the best for tomorrow. Diane will give me a facial tonight and a manicure as we drink champagne and gossip the night away.

I can hardly contain my excitement.

Tomorrow is going to be a small affair with just the bride and groom, best-man and matron-of-honour and her partner, who will take the photos.

Small but just as precious as any large wedding affair. In fact, I think small is so much better.

Diane and I order from the room service menu for dinner, after which we take our champagne and climb into a relaxing spa bath. Then it’s time for my pampering.

I lay back and try to relax as Diane gives me a deep cleansing facial and then begins to work on my fingernails. By the time she’s finished I have the most gorgeous pink nails.

Then we decide it is time for bed but I’m so excited I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep tonight.

Tomorrow my dreams will come true.

I did manage a decent night sleep and wake to the sun shining across my bed, bathing me in its warmth.

I climb out of bed and ring down to the restaurant to order breakfast and coffee for the two of us. Diane wanders from her room just as room service is knocking on the door. We sit and enjoy our food as I gush and giggle in excitement.

After breakfast we both quickly jump through the shower and head out to attend our hairdressing appointment. Here my raucous curls are tamed to some degree into the most glorious up-do and Diane’s hair is swept up into a glamour bun.

Next we saunter down the road to our make up artist, who precedes to make me look like the beautiful bride I’ve always dreamed I’d be.

Last stop is to pick up our bouquets. Mine is a single red rose with baby’s breath and Diane’s a small group of white frangipanis.

Then it’s back to the resort to get dressed.

By this time my nerves are beginning to show. What if the love of my life doesn’t show? What if something goes wrong? What if — what if?

Diane calms me down and reminds me that what I am feeling is normal and I fluctuate between sheer giddy excitement and nervous worry.

At last I’m dressed in this gorgeous white wedding gown, my veil is threaded in my hair and there’s nothing left to do.

I’m ready. I’m more than ready. I can’t believe I’m getting married today. I’m so happy, in fact, I’ve never felt happiness like this before.

Diane’s phone rings and she answers it with a smile. I knew it was time and her partner, Simon, was calling to say he was downstairs with the car. A blue Chevrolet Bel Air, my favourite car, was awaiting for the bride and matron-of-honour.

It is time.

The next time I walk into this room I will be Mrs Andrews. I will be a married woman.

It is time.

Simon drives us the short two kilometres to a quiet backstreet cul-de-sac that backs up to the most glorious stretch of beach. It was at this very spot that the love of my life and I had experienced our very first kiss and it is in that exact spot that we will become man and wife today.

I climb out of the car and Diane fusses around ensuring I look the ecstatically happy bride I am.

It is time.

Simon heads down to the beach to ensure all is ready and when he turns to wave back at us, we know it is all as it is meant to be. Just around the curve of the vegetation this wonderfully handsome and loving man is waiting for me.

Diane begins the slow walk onto the beach and around the bend.

A couple of minutes after she has faded from my view, I follow. Long flowing white gown, veil covering my excited face and my feet bare of shoes, I start the trek towards where my soon-to-be husband, Ben, awaits.

As I round the curve I almost freeze. There is this gorgeous male specimen, dressed from top to toe in black. As he spots me in all my glory, I note that he is especially surprised at my bare feet, and I realise that my man has tears running down his face at the sight of me.

He is so emotional that he is struggling to stand and his best man is having to support his weight so he doesn’t collapse into an emotional wreck, right there on the pristine white sand.

I smile with love at this display and if I ever had any doubt of the love that he held for me, his reaction just dispelled that doubt. This man adores me and I’ve never felt so loved, at any time in my life, as I did right then.

I only have eyes for my man as I take in his attire, the silver rings on every finger except that important finger, which has been left bare, his black boots and his freshly cut hair. He is truly the most handsome man I have ever laid my eyes upon.

Finally, I am standing by his side, our back to the azure blue ocean and facing the solo palm tree, under which we had kissed for the first time three years ago.

The marriage celebrant asks if we were ready. I am so wrapped up in this beautiful man that I’ve forgotten there are others with us.

We both nod yes without breaking our gaze and the celebrant performs the most sacred of ceremonies, until she suddenly pronounces us as man and wife. I lean in to let my husband give me his first kiss as my forever partner.

Mr and Mrs Andrews.

Neither of us can wipe the smile from our face.

We are married.

Until that moment I’ve never known what true happiness is. I am truly over the moon and so very much in love.

It was the best wedding ceremony I could have ever dreamed it to be. Sheer perfection.

Once the signing of the paperwork is completed, Ben and I pose for the wedding photos and then it is time to return to the resort, where a small reception for the five of us has been arranged.

As we arrive, the bridal party other than my husband and I, enter first to let them know we have arrived and then we were announced.

“Welcome Mr and Mrs Andrew.”

We are seated beside the pool. Drinks and food are served throughout the night as we celebrate in style, until it is time to say goodnight, to spend out first night together in our perfect bubble of happiness.

What an amazing day we have had and the memories will be with us as we grow old together.

I fell into an exhausted but happy sleep next to my new husband, cuddled up in his arms.

As the new morning dawns, I wake suddenly sobbing my heart out and reach for my new husband, only to find the bed empty. There isn’t even an indentation in the bedding to show where he had laid.

I sit up in confusion, then the pain and reality suddenly hits me hard. I haven’t woken the day after our wedding. No I have woken to a morning fifteen years after that beautiful day. Woken to the memory that my husband no longer graces this earth.

He had been killed a week after our magical wedding day. Killed in a freak motor vehicle accident and he had been ripped from my soul as his mortal body perished.

It totally destroyed me and all these years later I am still a broken, emotional mess, waking each morning to the horrid realisation that he had been taken from me.

I’m not sure how it is that I survived the pain and heartbreak of his loss.

Actually, yes I do!

It is only because I have been blessed with the ability to travel through time. It is due to this ability that I have survived the trauma of losing my husband, one week after we became man and wife.

It is this ability that has made my life bearable to any degree and I make this count.

Every night as I lay down in our marriage bed, I travel through time to that moment when I stop at my boss’ office and remind him I will not be in the next day, as I had a wedding to attend.

Every night I travel back to that happiest of days and I marry the love of my life — again and again and again.

Then every morning I wake, sobbing through my broken heart, remembering in that moment that my husband is no more.

Every night I live and love the man that was to be my precious husband for one short week.

Every night I experience my own perfect Groundhog Day, and every morning I wake to the most excruciating pain any human being has ever been asked to handle.

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