45 And Counting

I awoke fairly early that Autumn Saturday morning in 1970. My head was a ball of nerves and jumbled thoughts. What had I forgotten, what still needed be done before 3:00 that afternoon?Questions like these, and others, filled my thoughts and blocked my mental passages, as I toiled  to prepare the Ford Anglia for its very important journey to the Carefree Cottage in Onrusrivier later in the day.

Whether this is an accurate account of my movements, my thoughts and actions, is debateable. Somehow I think that I could not have accurately described these matters 45 days later, let alone 45 years.

Not that it is, or was, important. But, retrospectively, the meaning and significance of that day, is the important part.

A few hours later, around 3:20pm, I would hazard a guess, I was standing to attention, dressed semi-formally and  stiffly in a posh white shirt, necktie, black suit, black shoes, black socks (I think) and hair Brylcreemed slickly onto my knobbly skull. I was standing in front of what seemed to be a small sea of faces,mostly familiar, witnessing what was being said. I was part of a small group in front of these witnesses.

A group consisting of me, my wife to be, in a Dutch-reformed church with a Jewish clergyman speaking English in a predominantly,almost exclusively,Afrikaans-speaking environment. I was perspiring, beads of perspiration clearly visible on my forehead, and fortunately not really visible under my armpits. Whether the weather was abnormally hot or not, I cannot recall, but I can certainly remember the perspiration.

I guess I was listening to what was being said, but, honestly, whether I was comprehending the words and their significance, I cannot say. The short stubby clergyman continued in his eloquent voice, “And do you, James, take Jeanette to be your lawfully wedded wife…”

I suspect that I said “yes” to his question. I have never regretted it. A scene similar to that flashed vaguely before me this afternoon once again. Precisely 45 years later.

Today, we are both 45 years older than we were that day. Much older, but hopefully a bit wiser and bound together by a lifetime of experiences and fond memories.There have been many ups and correspondingly many downs, but,on the balance of scores of plus and minus, I reckon I gave that Jewish English-speaking Afrikaans clergyman the correct answer on that eventful Saturday afternoon...