And then a wedding...

When Andrew was diagnosed with brain tumours at the end of September his daughter Lydia's first cry was "I want Dad to be at my wedding!" Her mother Lynn's response was: "Well you'd better organise it soon." Lydia and Phil had been engaged for some time and were saying, "We'll get married next year." But now it was urgent for it be much sooner.

Lydia being a great action person and organiser got on the phone the following day and had pretty much everything booked and arranged within 24hours. The date was set for 21st November.

Various treatment options were still being discussed for Andrew. But very soon it became apparent that there was no viable treatment and after two weeks in hospital he was transferred home  for palliative care. There was still hope that he might "make it" or at least still be alive by the wedding day. But even that hope soon became unrealistic as his condition declined rapidly.

So the decision was made to have a wedding blessing ceremony at Andrew and Lynn's home while Andrew was still able to be alert and witness it. It was an occasion just for the immediate family.

It was a very poignant ceremony of course - but beautiful and very meaningful. The family have shared some photos, one or two of which I can share here.

A few days later Andrew lapsed into unconsciousness and died a few days after that on 3rd November. The funeral took place on the 8th.

****

Less than two weeks after Andrew's funeral the "real" wedding took place. Lydia's brave mother Lynn walked her down the aisle, both I think, holding back tears. Andrew's absence was appropriately and sensitively mentioned several times during the ceremony and the reception. Like everything else about this family and Andrew's death, it was all faced honestly and openly. 

It was a happy occasion of genuine celebration for Lydia and Phil surrounded by friends and family. Even the Wellington weather cleared up just in time for the wedding and the photos to follow!

The wedding party

The immediate family

Looking back, and writing about this now I am amazed and grateful at the way we have all negotiated the sorrow and joy of these last fast moving weeks. Lynn and her children have been wonderful. Of course now is the time when the adrenaline recedes and the reality dawns in new ways. In many ways it still feels surreal. How can Andrew be gone - so quickly and so young? As I said in my last post his presence is now to be found in that new mysterious reality of having disappeared into God. In the album Point Vierge: Thomas Merton's Journey in Song are the lines "to disappear into God, to be submerged in his peace, to be lost in the secret of his face." A comforting reality.