Dress? Check. Invitations? Check. Catering? Check. But wait…what about the music for the big day? That’s going to take a lot more checking. And quite possibly, a lot more arguing. But somebody’s got to do it, in the name of sweet, sweet harmony.
The man who makes the best tea in the world and I will be married in 2017. One of the things that sits on my to do list, and takes up more time in my head than anything else, is The Playlist.
You’re laughing, I know, but this is more important to me than I think you realise. You see, we both grew up in musical homes. His focused on the mastery of it, and mine focused on the appreciation of it. Of course, those two things cannot be untangled, but I can’t play the triangle, while he can play nearly anything you hand him.
Picking out songs that must be played should be easy, but it isn’t. So far, I’ve selected 956 songs that need to be played, and I haven’t even asked him about his yet.
There are songs that mean something to me, on a deep and dear level, and there are remnants of my parents locked up in those too.
My daughter, while we were in deep discussion over her dress for the occasion, realised with a fright that my parents would not be in attendance at the wedding. I guess it was just something she had not yet thought of.
I let her feel her way through it, cuddled her up on my lap (a near-impossible task nowadays, as she not-so-obviously extends beyond my height) and told her to pick a song that made her think of them.
While she has no memory of my father, she does of my mother. There are things they shared and moments they giggled over, and she does have a song. These things are deeply etched into our family, so we should celebrate them. The Jenkin family does, after all, have a theme song: Living on a Prayer, by Bon Jovi.
Then there’s the song that was playing the first time I thought I might be in love with this man who makes great tea. That exact moment isn’t something I’ll share with the world, but Pearl Jam has the honour of owning that moment for me, with their song, Daughter.
There’s also the song that spun up on the radio when I gave him an excellent surprise-fright on our first dating anniversary. Each of these has imbued themselves into my memory, as we’ve charted our life together.
Of course, there are the other ones too, like the ceremonial first dance. I know that at some point he’ll be picking up a guitar or some such along the way. There’s also the ultimate song of our life together, that’s filled with hilarity and conversations around dinner.
At 10 minutes and 56 seconds along though, it’s counted itself out of the lineup. It’s Trapped In The Drive-Thru, by the parody singer, “Weird Al”Yankovic.
Ultimately, picking out this playlist will be something we do as a family, as we slowly uncover the treasures that lie within our history. It’ll probably come to a head in some busy after-dinner conversation, and a giant list will be created. Probably in Excel, and possibly with colour-coordinated cells.
Until then, please excuse me – my YouTube history is calling.
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