Happy Silver Wedding Anniversary

To Simon and Nicky

Dear Simon,

Happy 25th wedding anniversary to us!

I hope you don’t find it too insulting if I proclaim a sense of disbelief that this can have happened to us. Twenty-five flipping years. Who’d a thought?

My incredulity is not at our having reached this milestone. It’s true that we have faced plenty of challenges and adversities in our twenty-five years of marriage – probably about as many as anyone who makes it this far with the same partner.

What is really creating this sense of ‘how the hell did that happen?’ is that this something not something that happens to young, cool people like us. A silver wedding anniversary is what old people have, respectable people, the Queen.

We met in our twenties, young and poor. You were a musician and poet, I was a Marxist-feminist with writing ambitions, a single mother to little Tom. We were cool.

When my writing came to nothing (I didn’t know you actually had to work at it), and it turned out you couldn’t make a living from your music (not sure why, it’s brilliant), our work ethic and drive kicked in.

You channelled your charm and warmth into a successful career in fundraising, working hard to support me and our growing family while I fulfilled my calling to be a midwife.

Many are the fond memories I have of those early years.

You playing Subbuteo with Tom, and helping him with his paper round before going off to your office job.

Getting up early to put baby Leo in his backpack to walk him round to soothe him before taking me into my 7am shift at the hospital.

The time I rang your mobile to find out how you were all getting on after I went back to work, leaving expressed breast milk for our youngest, Jack. I caught you as were driving Tom and his mates to football. ‘Jack’s fine, Mark Parrot’s giving him his bottle’ came the now legendary response.

Bringing cabbage leaves and lavender oil up to the City hospital to help a breastfeeding mother on the ward.

Coming to care for the child of friends, while I was in the other room helping the mum to give birth to their second baby at home in the pool.

And all the family adventures, often too dangerous for a risk assessment but how brilliant it is to look back on the campfires, the clifftop walks, the wild swimming and the canoeing, to remember all the football matches and holidays and days at the allotment … and when the kids had grown up – Crete and more wild swimming and playing records and lockdown – not all at the same time.

Your support and love over the years at St Mary’s church, commemorating baby Penny’s short but meaningful life.

All those happy times with our children, wonderful parents and sisters, with our many fabulous friends and now our family has expanded to include Sarah and Hannah, and grandkids Aaya and Yahya. Oh, and Eddie the cat. Mustn’t forget Eddie.

Twenty-five years Simon. There were tears over those years, and occasions – pretty rare but there were some – when we pulled apart, though something ultimately kept us glued together. Perhaps it was our common appreciation of Homer’s wisdom that marriage is a coffin, with each kid another nail?

Or could it have been the shocking suggestion our vicar, Graham, made at our wedding that stuck with us and helped us to stick together – that the purpose of marriage is to make the other person happy?

Thank you for twenty-five years Simon. We are still pretty cool after all.