Just a few black and white photos in a white album and a DVD transferred from an old cine film. A young girl with a tiny waist, wearing a white lace dress, first standing with her distinguished-looking, proud father then with her handsome airman in his Best Blue uniform. The place - St Mary's church, Oswaldtwistle. It's been a wet morning and the leaves on the trees glisten with raindrops but now the sun is shining.
There's the bride's mother in peacock blue with a hat made of feathers and round her shoulders is a mink stole. She's more than 10 years younger than I am now. The group photo of all the guests, more than 3 quarters of them now dead. The bride's brother's beautiful, blonde wife smiles as she holds her baby girl who is now the mother of teenage girls she didn't live to see. The aunts and uncles, neighbours and friends who are no longer with us.
Look, there's the bride and groom cutting the cake at the reception. After the meal the bride takes baby niece on her knee and there is a roar of approval and humour from the guests. At the end of the DVD the bride and groom are driving away to a honeymoon in Devon. Bye bye, have a good life.
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I looked at the photos today, it's 45 years ago but it seems like yesterday. No one, now, to wish a happy anniversary but many memories and 3 wonderful children. The bridegroom's beloved grandson now a 6'3, handsome young fellow, the granddaughter he never knew and whom he would have adored, they are his legacy.
Happy anniversary, love. The memories don't die.