My Life: Jane Goodhue

A few weeks ago the world watched the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton and oohed and aahed over every detail of that beautiful day. I sat with friends and cheered and cried as I watched with great empathy, reliving the wedding of my daughter last year.

What were the guests wearing? How did the groom look? Was he nervous? How was the Abbey decorated? My heart was in my mouth as Carole Middleton emerged from her car, looking composed and stylish. What was going through her mind as she prepared to walk into the Abbey full of 1,900 guests waiting to witness her daughter's wedding?

I remember standing at the threshold of a rather more intimate church, feeling reluctant to step inside and start the proceedings that we had spent a year preparing. The news that your eldest daughter is engaged to be married is momentous, a happy confirmation of the great bond that you have watched growing between these two young people. A wonderful excitement builds as thoughts of the impending wedding take shape. Friends fire the anticipation with eager questions about the details - what colour will the flowers be, how many bridesmaids, what flavour cake? And what will you wear? And what will the bride's dress be like? There are plenty of tips and advice given, everyone wanting to make the day a success.

It is a day that hopefully will remain one of the best days of the bride's life. So, yes, the preparations are exciting, but the responsibility of meeting expectations seems suddenly onerous. You hope you have met her needs all through her life. The design of all those birthday cakes, the Halloween costumes, the colour of the bedroom walls, the party dresses. You put her favourite things in her lunch box, applauded at her concerts, listened to her tales of the achievements and disappointments at school. Who was the best friend this week? Who didn't want to sit next to her in break time? You put sticking plaster on the grazes and wished you had some that could mend the pain of the first disastrous love affairs.

And now here is the ultimate party, a celebration of her marriage and a ritualistic handing over of the bride to her groom.

The meetings, the tastings, the fittings are fun. The discussions over the guest list and the parking are challenging. Who could possibly sit next to that intolerable aunt? How will we prevent old feuds being reignited? Do we really need to order that much food? How do we possibly find shoes to match that colour? Do you honestly think I can wear a hat that size?

And in between, in your moments alone, you stop and reflect on what it all means to you. It doesn't seem possible that your little girl is going to be married. All the fears and excitements of your own wedding come back to you and you cannot imagine where all those years have gone.

You sit outside the heavily curtained changing room, waiting for her to emerge in her wedding dress. And there she is, stunningly beautiful, a bride, radiant with excitement and happiness. A tear rolls down your cheek. She is ready.

The preparations are complete, but it is not just the lists of tasks achieved that will make this celebration a success. It has been a lifetime of caring and nurturing. So you pause on the threshold of the church, knowing that the inevitable moment has come. You take a deep reflective breath, then, with a warm, proud smile, step forward ready to celebrate.

Jane Goodhue is the wife of an expatriate businessman in Abu Dhabi.