Little nuggets of sober gold….

I wake and I know that it is later than usual by the brightness of the sky I can glimpse through the window. I stretch and feel each muscle complain. I ache all over and my already bockety knees are painful and sore. Even my jaws hurt. For a few seconds I trawl through the filing cabinet of my mind, anxiously clicking on each memory trying to remember what resulted in the tiredness in my body and in my bones and then I realise, and I sigh with relief. The pain in my aching muscles comes from having danced too much last night, not from a hangover. The pain in my jaw is from smiling so much. Yesterday I attended a wedding – an Irish wedding – and did not drink. My first sober Irish wedding. It feels like a milestone, a ‘pinch- me’ moment and definitely herein lies a few nuggets of sober gold.

You see the last Irish wedding I attended was about three years ago. I drank gin and tonic like it was going out of fashion. The giant fishbowl glasses were replenished every time I went to the bar. I drank doubles and at one point triples and felt halfway through the afternoon like they weren’t having any effect. Until I went to the toilet just before the meal and before I knew what was happening I was lying the floor. I could not remember falling, I could not remember how I had ended up there. I had blacked out. I quickly got up off the floor feeling faint and nauseous, and made my way unsteadily to the foyer where I texted my husband. He came quickly full of care and concern commenting on how pale I looked. I rejoined the celebration and continued to drink throughout the meal. I remember fear, fear from not having any recollection as to how I had fallen and shame, shame at having passed out, and guilt, guilt for my husband’s genuine concern.

In contrast our day on Friday began at 1pm in our local church where a good friend was getting married. She looked so beautiful as she walked up the aisle with her father and my heart was bursting with love for her and pride too. After the ceremony we took an hour out to collect our son from school and drop him home and we rejoined the wedding party in the hotel where the celebrations were in full swing. The reception in the bar was full of elegantly dressed women tottering in heels and jovial faced men, many stuffed into suits that I could tell were far from the normal attire that they were used to. Excited children ducked and dived between tables. I asked the bar man what alcohol-free options were available to accompany the delicious canapes, and I was told there was tea and coffee. My husband and I helped ourselves to coffee and sat and listened to the lively 3-piece band that were playing. Some friends joined us, and we sat, laughed, and had great fun.

I don’t know if you know anything about Irish weddings or if you have ever attended one, but they are definitely a bit like a mini festival. Day one is the actual wedding – day two is normally another huge party with everyone usually nursing huge hangovers and I have heard that day three is now also a thing. I drank two more cups of coffee, and the bell rang for the wedding breakfast – this is what we call the main meal of the wedding reception - at about half 5 or 6. We were starving by that stage and looking forward to our dinner.

We went into the function room and found our table and seating plan – we hadn’t been seated with anyone we knew and were a little anxious, but soon relaxed as the other people who were at our table arrived, they were lovely and ranged in occupation from psychotherapists to a chef to a librarian! There was plenty to talk about. My husband and I got an alcohol-free beer and cider from the bar as the waiting staff rushed around serving wine to the guests. The meal was stupendous – and we were stuffed afterwards, and then there were the speeches. The bride had decided to have a sing song before the band started, usually the sing song takes place much later during the night or indeed early the next morning and people are very tired or drunk or both – and this was a lovely idea for an interlude between the food and the band and the energy rose in the room after the meal as we sang our hearts out.

And then there was the band. As soon as they started I could feel the beat of the music calling me as they belted out 80’s hits seamlessly. I hit the dancefloor with my husband and let the beat of the music move through me and danced like no one was watching. Now let me get one thing straight - I am not a dancer, I have never been a dancer. I had been worried about this part of the wedding as normally I struggle with two left feet and can barely manage a waltz with my husband. But this was different – I danced and danced and danced – unapologetic, wild, sober and free.

We came off the dancefloor sweating and tired but jubilant and quietly slipped away at 10.30 pm appreciating that we could jump into our car and drive home. We got home and had tea with our son before going to bed and sleeping a long dreamless sleep. As we lay in bed the next morning, my husband remarked that it was possibly the best wedding we had ever been at and he commented on how great my dancing had been – how he had never seen me look as happy that he hadn’t known I could dance like that (I didn’t know ,yself!!).

Afterthoughts revolve around a sense of achievement and pride at having not only withstood what is normally a huge drinking occasion without a single drop of alcohol, but also a newfound appreciation for the ‘realness’ that not drinking brings. There was nothing to tarnish all those precious moments - the burst of love and pride I felt as my friend walked up the aisle, the exuberance and sheer joy of dancing to the band, the last cup of tea before bed with our son – all the little nuggets of pure sober gold.

Grá & Solas

Claire
Xx

MEMBERS ONLY

Yesterday I attended a wedding – an Irish wedding – and did not drink. My first sober Irish wedding. It feels like a milestone, a ‘pinch- me’ moment and definitely herein lies a few nuggets of sober gold.

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