Upstaged by nan at my wedding!
When Leanne Mcquillain, 35, from Colchester, planned her big day, she knew just who she wanted to walk with her down the aisle...
Watching my sister Natasha walk down the aisle in August 2016, my nan Shirley, 80, turned to me.
‘I wish she’d asked me to be bridesmaid!’ she whispered. Nanny was a real character. She was always winding up one of her 16 grandchildren, or eight great-grandchildren.
Since we were little, Nanny would have us in stitches.
She reminded us of Hyacinth, the character in Keeping Up Appearances, because she’d put on a posh voice, even though she’d grown up in a rough part of town. Losing our grandad Maurice to Alzheimer’s, two years earlier, had come as a blow to her. They’d loved to jive to the Glenn Miller Band or Nanny’s fave Robbie Williams. They were still deeply in love, even after 58 years of marriage. So, when Grandad had to go and live in a home, Nanny never grumbled about taking two buses to sit with him every day. When he passed away in December 2014, she moved in with my mum Lynne, 58. She’d come round to mine every week, and spend time with my three kids – Lexie, 8, Caeden, 4, and Ollie, 16 months. We knew that she missed Grandad but life carried on and Nanny still had a cheeky glint in her eye.
Every week, without fail, she’d go to the local bingo hall to play a few games, nattering away with the other regulars.
And she still loved a good giggle and being the centre of family life.
No wonder she’d wanted to be a bridesmaid for Natasha.
‘When it’s your turn, I’ll get my chance!’ she told me with a wink as the ceremony began. ‘OK, Nanny,’ I laughed. Not that I was planning a wedding. Me and my partner Wayne, 37, had been together for more than seven years, but I wasn’t expecting a proposal.
That evening, as my sister was about to toss the bouquet, she handed it straight to me.
Before I knew it, Wayne was in front of me, down on one knee, a beautiful pear-shaped diamond ring in his hand.
‘Will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?’ he asked.
‘Yes!’ I replied, as my whole family began to cheer. The loudest of all was Nanny. I knew she’d be as excited about mine and Wayne’s big day as she was about Natasha’s.
But, a few weeks later, we noticed Nanny was getting forgetful. She’d repeat herself and couldn’t remember how to cook meals she’d been making all her life – such as curry or bread-and-butter pudding. We insisted she saw a doctor. In November 2016, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. It was a huge blow. Nanny was an independent woman, we looked up to her.
Coming to terms with the fact she was facing the same fate as Grandad was heartbreaking.
There were bad days, when she seemed like a different woman to the bubbly, cheeky Nanny we’d all known. But there were good days, too, when our old nan was still in there. I’d see that glint in her eye. As I began to plan my big day, it was obvious the part she should play. I remembered our chat on Natasha’s wedding day, and made a decision.
‘You’re going to be one of my bridesmaids!’ I told her.
‘Oh, lovely!’ she gasped, delight spreading over her face.
I chose champagne-coloured, sequinned floor-length dresses for four of my bridesmaids.
But Nanny insisted on wearing the dress she wore to Natasha’s wedding. A stylish, black-and-white floral one.
In the months leading up to the wedding, Nanny’s health began to deteriorate. At times,
She looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen her
she’d recall she was my bridesmaid, at others she didn’t.
She’d often muddle up our names – there were a lot of us! – but it was happening more often, and was upsetting to see.
On the hunt for something old, something new, I asked Nanny if she had anything that I could use.
She gave me a set of rosary beads, belonging to Grandad, as my something blue.
On the morning of the wedding in August 2018, Nanny made sure she didn’t miss any of the action.
After getting dressed with Mum, she joined me and the other bridesmaids for champagne.
She kept hold of my youngest, Ollie, while I had my hair and make-up done. And when Ollie started to whinge, she entertained him.
Watching her, I laughed till my freshly-applied mascara threatened to run. She was back to her old self again.
But Nanny found the excitement too much, and had a quick snooze on the bridal bed. ‘Almost time,’ I said at 12pm, gently waking her.
She smiled at me, applied a spritz of perfume, and looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen her.
I was nervous before the ceremony, barely got a chance to speak to Nanny.
I knew that she’d be OK with Natasha, who was walking down the aisle beside her, as well as carrying Ollie.
And watching Nanny, with her burgundy-and-white bouquet, was so sweet. She
gave everyone a giggle, as always, bopping guests on the head with her flowers as she walked past.
Upstaging the bride…but how could I mind?
The ceremony went like a dream, followed by a perfect wedding breakfast and fabulous reception.
We gave Alzheimer’s Society pins as favours, glittery ones for the ladies. Nanny pinned hers to her dress.
Of course, she danced the night away, kept up with us all, showing off her famous moves.
There was no way she was going to turn in early.
Seeing her having so much fun, making the most of the occasion, really made my day.
Jigging along, side-by-side, her favourite song came on – Rock DJ by Robbie Williams.
‘How was it being my bridesmaid, Nanny?’ I asked, giving her a hug. ‘I’ve had the best day! Thank you,’ she beamed. The next morning, as we all sat around the breakfast table, remembering the stories and happy moments, Nanny seemed a little bewildered.
She laughed along, as if she was hearing about the wedding for the first time. And I realised she didn’t remember. Choking back tears, I told myself not to dwell on that.
She’d had the time of her life, that’s what mattered. For Mother’s Day this year, I put together a scrapbook for Nanny, packed with memories of her life, her parents, Grandad, all of us, and later, I added pictures of the day she was my bridesmaid.
It means, whenever she needs a little reminder of the life she’s lived, the people she’s loved, she can look back at the photos of events in her book. Nanny still comes to mine once a week and still plays jokes, such as hiding one of us lot’s shoes if she gets a chance. The only difference is, now she doesn’t always remember where she’s stashed them! And, every weekend, she makes herself comfortable on the sofa, ready for X Factor and her dose of Robbie Williams. Nanny may not remember all the incredible things and people who’ve been in her life. I can’t bring myself to think about losing her as well. But I know that my amazing Nanny will live on forever in the family she cherishes – and that’s an incredible legacy.