A slice of tradition
And then Pablo mentioned the rings. I said we didn't actually have to exchange wedding bands, since it's not a religious ceremony. But Mum jumped from the couch and disappeared into her dressing room. She came back with a little brown box and a massive smile.

"I thought you might want to have this", she said, handing over the box to me. Inside was my Irish grandmother's wedding band, beautiful and old and smelling of tradition. I tried Nanna's ring and my engagement one together and it looked perfect.

Then i took the golden one off and took a look inside. "There's an inscription here", i said. "What?", gasped Mum. Three letters glistened back at me. Initials, probably.

After triple checking them, after having Mum mutter a lot in surprise and after examining the whole thing with a magnifying glass, we discovered the initials belonged to my great grandmother, mother of my mother's father, who is actually named after her. And Nanna never told Mum about this.

I'll be wearing a little slice of tradition on our wedding day. And on the days after that. It feels good and comforting. And i feel like a good ol' Celtic gal following my traditions.