You're Stronger Than You Think
How my dream wedding didn't happen as planned but I somehow got through it and surprised myself.
Ever since I was a little girl I dreamt of getting married to my Prince Charming. How my Father would walk me down the aisle and share a speech during the wedding breakfast and how my Mother would help me get into my dress and big me up before it’s time for action.
In 2021, I got engaged and the wedding planning process already seemed overwhelming. We had a discussion about where and when we wanted the wedding to be. I wanted local but he wanted abroad. That was the first time we actually disagreed on something but I was open to exploring the idea.
So, we booked a trip to Sorrento, Italy and scoured the internet for wedding venues we could visit. Whilst we were waiting for our trip to come around, disaster struck. My Dad had a heart attack and was rushed into hospital. It hit me like a tonne of bricks. All of a sudden, wedding planning was the last thing on my mind.
That day and weekend were the worst days of my life. It was during the pandemic, so me and my Mam couldn’t visit him. He was having open heart surgery so we had no contact with him. We had never been just the two of us. We were always a three. I really didn’t know what way this was going to go. I was scared. We were scared.
I stayed in my childhood bedroom that weekend and didn’t want to leave my Mam’s side. All I could think of were the memories we had together. The good times were a highlight reel in my mind and I just prayed and prayed it wouldn’t be the end.
The light shone through on a Saturday afternoon when the family group chat (Dad, Mam, me and now, Elliot) received a message from Dad that read, “I’m alive.” Ever the joker… The emotion that hit me was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It rushed through me like a hurricane and me and my Mother hugged in floods of tears in the kitchen.
Picking up my Dad from the hospital was horrific. Seeing him being wheeled out, after not seeing him for days, looking frail and exhausted. It hurt. We bent down to him and embraced, again, in floods of tears. These are my people and we were back together.
The months that followed were a whirlwind. Dad was recovering slowly but well, he stopped smoking and drinking. When he felt good enough, we went on walks and slowly built up the distances. All of a sudden he was back and the Italian wedding we booked was back on my mind.
I thought to myself that this would be the most emotionally brilliant thing to experience with my parents. He would be fully recovered by then and my Mam has always wanted to visit Italy so we could tick that off her list too. I’ve also never been abroad with both of my parents so I was really looking forward to it.
There’s a song that always reminds me of the end of a party at my parents - as their house was THE party house. It was Sweet Marie by Hothouse Flowers. If you’ve never heard the song there’s a line that resonates so deeply with me.
Sweet Marie, I’m alive.
My middle name being Marie and my Dad’s opening line after the heart attack being, “I’m alive.” It was a full circle moment that I pictured in my head as the perfect Father-Daughter dance. A moment I would remember for the rest of my life. Surprisingly, my Dad agreed to do it.
Fast forward to February this year and my dream was crushed yet again. We’d just spent a weekend in Manchester with one of my best friends, we met some of his friends, and most importantly, his boyfriend. We danced and drank and ate some good food. On the Sunday, we booked a stadium tour of Manchester City, a touchy subject as my Dad is a huge United supporter.
On the train home, the phone call came from my Mam and immediately I knew it was history repeating itself. “Your Dad has had a stroke Han.” I felt like the words were echoing around my brain and all my surroundings were fuzzy. Even now, after the wedding is over, I am constantly thinking, why did this have to happen? Hasn’t he been through enough?
Back at the hospital but this time we could visit and sit with him. He looked like himself but tired. Thankfully, his physical movement came back quickly and so did the majority of his speech. He was discharged and was home. He slept so much. He clung to my Mam. She was his comfort person. She was his saviour. She is my saviour too, but she doesn’t realise it. I wish she did.
He was back, getting better each day but he wasn’t the same. He’s still not. There are good days and bad days, ups and downs.
The topic of the wedding came up around 1-2 weeks later. They couldn’t come. It felt like a knife to my heart. How could I do this without my best friends being there? My biggest supporters, my soul mates.
But I did it. I don’t know how. Everyone is calling me strong and brave but I don’t feel it. The good thing about getting married, which I learnt on the day, is that it goes by so quickly. Everything moves so fast, you don’t have time to stop and think that your Dad isn’t going to walk you down the aisle or the photographer won’t capture your Mam doing up the buttons on the back of your dress.
Thankfully, I have a really supportive group of people around me. They got me through to the end. The next day, I sobbed. I couldn’t believe I did it without them there with me.
Currently, I’m still in shock. The wedding photos came back this week and it’s brought up a lot of emotions again. The photos are beautiful but they’re missing two people that mean so much to me.
Everyone keeps telling me, “at least he’s still with us,” which is true. But he’s not the same and it’s been difficult for me and my Mam to navigate this change. Is he still in there? Will he ever to be that person again? Or is this him now until the end inevitably comes? I wish someone could tell us, but every stroke recovery is unique.
I do feel proud of myself. Mainly for not ending it. At one point, I thought it would be the only way I could cope, by planning the end. All I can say is thank god for therapy. I’ve seen a huge change in how I’ve coped this time around since when the heart attack happened. I did feel brave and I did feel strong so maybe I am those things?
Writing this has been a form of therapy for me. I’ve been able to dump all my thoughts here with no judgement. Oversharing on the internet to strangers is kinda cool, you know.
There’s parts of these last few years which I plan to go deeper into but for now I’ll leave it, it’s Friday night, after all. Just know that you are more capable than you may think, even when disaster strikes and things don’t go to plan.
You’ve got this.
Hannah
Sending a big hug ♡ what a powerful and emotionally moving piece, Hannah.