The country might be all getting excited about the forthcoming wedding of Meghan and Harry, but rewind 17 years and I was getting ready to marry my very own ginger prince.
I know it’s a huge cliché, but the past 17 years have gone in the blink of an eye. I still remember our wedding day like it was yesterday, getting married in the hotel where Hywel had proposed to me 14 months before. We were surrounded by friends and family (and John McCardle who used to be in Brookside) , on one of the hottest days of the year. And just like Meghan and Harry, we also got married on FA Cup final day. If you ask Hywel, I am pretty sure he will be able to tell you the score, the teams involved, and who scored the winning goal.
The past 17 years have seen us become parents, probably the greatest learning curve of our married life. We have cried together, shouted together, been frustrated together. Changed endless nappies, cuddled upset children, and listened to the occasional door being slammed by a grumpy teen.
But as the kids get older and start carving out their own lives, we find we are getting more and more time together. And thankfully we still like each other. Last weekend when the kids were off doing their own things, we enjoyed lunch out in the sunshine, and popped to the pub on the Friday evening. We talked, we laughed, and we enjoyed spending time together.
17 years on our marriage is still as strong as the day we got married, possibly even stronger if you factor in surviving parenting children to the ages of 12 and nearly 16. Another cliché, but yes he is my total rock, the best husband, the best spider catcher, and the person who I never have to nag to put the bins out.
Happy anniversary Hywel for tomorrow, and here is to the next year of marriage and adventures.