Our beautiful daughter Rachel was married.

 Our beautiful daughter Rachel was married.

There are days in your life when it doesn't get any better. You find yourself transported to a world of perfection, blissful joy, an epic and momentous day when the birds sing all day in your head and the world is quite the most stunning place you can possibly imagine. You look for the rough surfaces but simply can't find any that you can see and you try to look for something that doesn't quite fit. But you're unsuccessful because everything is right, nothing is wrong and there are no glaring faults whatsoever. 

But a couple of days ago, our beautiful, gorgeous, delightful, delectable daughter Rachel was married to the equally as flawless, handsome, dashing and debonair husband Lior. And the world just stopped for a while. You were in seventh heaven. The planets were aligned, the stars were shining, the date, place and time were somehow fated to find that gentle tranquillity that we all look for in life. There were no disturbances and disruptions, just the glorious company of family, friends and the people you'll always cherish. 

So after months and months of careful planning, deliberation, anguished stress, minor setbacks and drawbacks, we all got it together and met up in a state of religious harmony, no arguments, the panicky moments of anxiety now consigned to some distant time in the Middle Ages where knights were bold and cavalier and Charles the Second was a wee lad in shorts. There were no last minute sharp intakes of breath and none of the nervous apprehension that normally comes into play when you think that aunties, uncles and cousins may not be able to make it. But this was the day we'd all dreamt about and that's the way it felt and proved to be. 

On Tuesday we were all united, harmonious, smiling openly at each other and giggling quietly in the august surroundings of Southend and Westcliff Hebrew Congregation shul(synagogue). We were settled in our seats and the memories of yesteryear came flooding back to me, quite personally. I cast my mind back to my wedding day in 1993 when Bev, my lovely wife and I, were married at Boundary Road shul in Walthamstow and my mum and dad, mother and father in law, brother, brother in law and daughter in law with young daughter were there to witness that magical day when the sun shone incessantly, summer was about to fly off the starting blocks and hearts were entwined permanently. 

There must be your days in your life when it all feels as if all those nasty wars of violence, aggression, loathing, bloodshed, heartache and strife, seem to melt away into some dusty land of nowhere. For what seems like forever, marriage is that ultimate foundation stone of two people deeply in love. Nobody but nobody can take that day away from you because you deserve happiness, exultation, pleasure and the very height of elation.

For Bev and I this was the day that meant everything to us in the world. You could never have imagined that day in any parents life when your precious offspring finally become betrothed, the moment of delirium when you kiss under the Chupa, that spectacularly flower festooned canopy and you are man and wife.  It was a day for the consummation of love, that declaration of wondrous affection, that passionate commitment to the wedding vows, the announcement of the prayers and blessings that bind the married couple together and the rabbi cracks the kind of jokes that you may have heard over and over again. Laugh out Loud. Thankyou rabbi, you were a star, a scholar and gentleman. We can never thankyou enough.

And so the married couple Rachel and Lior were together at long last. They'd followed their contrasting paths to their wedding day and after a thousand adventures, arrivals and destinations, bewildering journeys and many travelled miles to the most exotic corners of the world, we got there. We knew we would and indeed it materialised like the ultimate fairy tale. It was only a matter of time and how we rejoiced, how we flung aside inhibitions as if they hadn't existed in the first place. It all bore fruition.

Marriage is such a treasured acknowledgement of two people who simply want to spend the rest of their lives together no matter the petty tiffs or disagreements. Nor indeed can those inevitable confrontations be avoided, leading to the couple staring menacingly at each other, threatening chaos and mayhem. The truth is that when man and woman Adam and Eve from a historical perspective finally discovered the apple, it was not without animosity, rancour, red faced resentment or just temporary loathing. 

Marriage is the signature that underlines months of devotion, caring for each other, the result of continuous preparation, the arrangement of tables, hundreds of invitations to family and friends. And then finally you stand there at either the church, mosque, synagogue, mosque or register office, immaculately dressed, hair coiffeured, bows and ribbons elegantly knotted. Then there were the white taxi cabs, fleets of cars reversing back into car parks, chauffeured limousines shining resplendently. 

The day of my daughter and son in law's marriage was heaven sent. After an exquisite summer of warm, hot sunshine and interminable heatwaves, August 11th promptly went off like the finest wedding present of them all. Bev and I could not have asked for anything better. August 11th 2026 is now indelibly etched in our minds rather like the most magnificent tapestry or a striking embroidery that will take pride of place in their homes forever more. 

So from the moment I spotted the white taxi cab that usually drives the father of the bride to our shul, I knew I was in capable hands. We were up and running and here I was surrounded by a vision of green and turquoise, bridesmaids and Rachel's friends dressed in dresses of flawless ceremony. We travelled the short distance to the Southend and Westcliff Hebrew Congregation rather like members of the royal family but without the golden carriages and horses bejewelled and caparisoned as if we were on our way to the Mall and Buckingham Palace. 

The smooth procession from the shul reminded you of the symbolism and formality of the big day. And onwards we proceeded in an orderly fashion to the heart of the Essex riviera. Southend and Thorpe Bay awaited in all its glory and splendour, a location so picturesque and nostalgic that you couldn't help but remember what Southend and Westcliff must have felt like when you were a kid. This time it felt entirely different, a world away from those lazy, hazy days when your lovely grandparents and my mum and dad lavished you with huge shopping bags of egg and onion sandwiches and many a bottle of lemonade as well as the flasks of tea that kept my vocal chords nicely oiled. 

The Roslyn Hotel is a wonderfully luxurious and impeccably furnished five star hotel that had everything we could have wanted in terms of its abundant catering facilities and the quality of both its food and drink. The night before, another wedding had serenaded Bev and I as we drifted off to sleep, the heavy dance music so fashionable these days. But now we were the stars of the day, the main act as both sets of families converged on the dining hall and beforehand a reception that seemed to go on forever. 

Then the main dinner was served consisting of the customary chicken, roast potatoes and vegetables preceded by a green celery soup. This was a feeling that was too good to be true. Around me the low hum and murmur of conversation, light hearted banter and free exchange of pleasantries could be heard quite distinctly. Against an uplifting backdrop of 1970s and 80s disco music, this was turning into the party that would never ever be forgotten. And then after much heavy consumption and perhaps over indulgence, friends and families fell silent for yours truly. It was the moment of judgment, a neatly composed speech from the father of bride and mum of course. 

I'd only experienced a couple of occasions where I was required to make a speech to an expectant audience, both our son and daughter's bar and batmitzvah. But this was another biggie, far from being nerve racking but both telling, emotionally poignant and so fitting. I began to wax lyrical about Rachel, our wonderful daughter for what felt like the millionth time and there was no hesitation or deviation whatsoever because of course it was heartfelt and deeply moving for me. 

By the end of the evening the tributes were so sentimental and eloquent from not only me but both the bridegroom, friends and girl friends, that I was just overwhelmed by the whole experience. Now it was time to dance, boogie, working out the most sophisticated choreography I could muster. Jacket now well and truly off and tie suitably loosened, I was whisked away into a land of delight and sheer contentment. My daughter had found the love of her life and I couldn't have been happier. Above were the flickering strobe lights, the lights with small upside down baskets hanging from the ceiling. Oh Rachel, you were the most vivacious, vibrant and stunningly attractive bride. And your mum and dad are the proudest of parents. Every health and happiness for your future together, our darling daughter Rachel with my favourite son  in law Lior and parents in law Sheila and Dave.