Shelley Spadoni: ‘Why I took the leap!’
It’s almost 29 February – the day that women can pop the question to their man. After years of dating and the arrival of two boys, our celebrity editor Shelley Spadoni did exactly that. Here’s her story...
It started almost as a bit of a joke. It was a very average morning at work, the date 29 February 2016. It was a leap year, and, on the TV on the office wall, Holly and Phil were discussing the leap year tradition on This Morning.
I already knew, as most do, that this was the one date every four years when a woman can apparently ask a man to marry her (and yes, that date is coming up again very soon, ladies!).
Of course, being a modern woman, I don’t really believe that 29 February on a leap year is the only time you can legitimately ask your man to marry you.
That’s ludicrous. Do it whenever you like. It’s just a nice story to tell the grandkids. No, it was more the fact that I was feeling spontaneous, and on that slightly dull, grey February day in London Town, Holly and Phil of all people gave me the impetus to go for it.
Plus, I knew if I’d waited for my then-boyfriend Pierpaolo to do it, I’d have been walking down the aisle at around 79 with my zimmer frame!
We had been together for 14 years, having met back in 2003 in Rome, where I lived for five years after studying Italian at university. We were very happy, but there was absolutely no chance of him popping the question.
Tying the knot had never seriously crossed my mind either, though – probably because we’d already done all the proper grown-up, scary stuff: moving in together, dealing with the ups and downs of domesticity, and then, in 2012, the big one – having our first son, Dylan, now seven, followed in 2014, by his little brother, Jesse, now five.
I was never that little girl who dreamed of a fairy-tale wedding and a beautiful dress, even though friends and family had teased us mercilessly over the years, especially Pierpaolo – asking him, ‘ When are you going to make an honest woman out of her?’
But there was something in the air that day. So, when my boss asked, half-joking, ‘Right, who’s going to go home and ask their boyfriend to marry them, then?!’ I said, ‘Me!’ My colleagues giggled, but I’m sure they thought nothing more of it.
And that was that. My aunt, Frieda, was over from Belfast, visiting for a few days. When I went home, I asked her to look after the kids, as I was meeting Pierpaolo at our local pub, King William IV – the scene of many a raucous night in the past, as I had ‘something important to ask him’.
She immediately broke into a wide grin and gave me a knowing wink – wise Auntie
‘For a moment I was worried he might faint’
Frieda must have known exactly what it was!
As for Pierpaolo, I told him I simply wanted to buy him a few pints and catch up just the two of us, without two little boys doing cartwheels over our heads.
When he got there, we settled into our usual seats at the bar – me with a glass of white, he his usual pint. And I turned to him and said, casually, ‘So, what would you say to us getting married?
You know the date today, don’t you?!’
He spluttered a bit, and nearly fell of his bar stool – before staring at me intensely for a few beats, then smiling. ‘Married?! Like, us, get married ?!’
‘ Yes’, I laughed, ‘Us, get married!’ I had genuinely never seen Pierpaolo more shocked in my entire life.
For a moment, I was worried he might faint. But he regained his composure, downed the rest of his pint and, after I’d explained the whole Leap Year concept (Italians don’t do this – and the idea of a woman asking a man to marry her over there is unheard of ), which, yes, took the romance out of the scenario slightly, he said, ‘OK, let’s do it! Let’s do this! We’re getting married!’
This entire conversation was had in Italian, but somehow, our softly spoken Donegal barman had got the gist that something momentous had just happened.
‘Fellahs,’ he said, ‘Have I just witnessed a marriage proposal?’ ‘ You certainly have!’, I said, laughing. Before we knew it, Sean had whipped out a bottle of Prosecco (no Champagne, but give the guy a break, I’d sprung it on him, too) – and we were toasting our news.
It was a last-minute idea, but by the end of that unforgettable evening, both of us were walking on air. We’ll never forget it. We’d called our families, friends – we were discussing wedding venues, I was already banging on about my pre-wedding diet, and Pierpaolo (priorities, people), had already decided what he wanted to do on his stag do.
It was especially lovely to make that call to Pierpaolo’s mum, Giulia, in Rome, with some good news. She had lost her husband, Pierpaolo’s dad, Silvano, to bowel cancer in 2006, aged just 59.
She never really got over that loss. Ten years later, in November 2016, she herself had been diagnosed with incurable lung cancer. None of us knew how long she had.
We decided to get married outside Rome, in the grounds of a family-run ‘agriturismo’ – a beautiful farmhouse in the Lazio countryside, on 29 August 2017.
Sadly, just two months after we called Giulia with our big news, her health went abruptly downhill and on 31 May, she passed away.
Pierpaolo was devastated, as was I. But we were determined we would have our big day the following year.
And we did. Everyone we loved had flown over– coming from everywhere from my native Belfast to Canada.
I’ll never forget, arm-in-arm with my dad, walking up to Pierpaolo in the baking Italian sun that afternoon, and seeing everyone – or nearly everyone – I loved lined up clapping and cheering. I set eyes on my little ones looking adorable in their gorgeous blue short suits and their cousin, Marley, in her white dress, and I couldn’t help crying.
It was the most beautiful day, full of fun, laughter, food, dancing around the pool and eventually partying IN the pool - and it was one that almost never happened.
Being married hasn’t changed a thing. Except that it’s given me memories of a day that money can’t buy.
If any of you are reading this, and thinking of taking the leap this 29 February, all I can say is – go for it. You won’t regret a thing.