A Labour weekend celebration had been in my diary for months, but two more were added a few days before.
The two recent additions were funerals, the long-standing appointment was for a wedding.
The tributes at the funerals were so well done that you could have walked into the services not knowing the ones who’d died and walked out feeling you knew them well.
Both were people who never made the headlines but who left the world a better place for their contributions to their families and their communities.
The wedding was an intimate one – just family.
Three generations on both sides gathered to celebrate with the couple.
The service began with the bride’s father piping her and her mother hand in hand to where the rest of us waited.
The vows were sincere; the readings, by the groom’s sister and bride’s mother, appropriate to the couple; the singing by the bride’s sister delightful; the whole service meaningful and joyful for the bride and groom and those who witnessed it.
The two dinners which followed (the first immediately after the service, the second the following evening) were relaxed and happy.
It was all exactly the way the way the couple wanted to start their marriage, focussed on what really mattered.
Big or small, that’s the way all weddings should be.