*this post was originally conceived as a ‘father/daughter’ post with two different interpretations of the same picture.
Jenna (the bride) posted this pic on IG last Father’s Day and it hit that writing nerve in me resulting in this post.
Putting your thoughts on paper and ultimately sharing them online is a dicey thing.
So, this post may be updated at the appropriate time.
She was a special one, this one, and I’d known it all my life. She was so much me, so much mine way back when. A simple walk down the aisle would ultimately change all that from my perspective but was I ready to just give her away? Guess it’s a yes and no kind of thing., a ying and a yang, a blue sky versus a bruised and cloudy one. (That day was grey but not totally foreboding)
Already did the ‘giving away a daughter’ thing once before so I should be used to it by now, right?
But I wasn’t.
It’s hard to give up a daughter. She’ll now be be taken care of by someone other than me. I didn’t feel great about it the first time (Jonathan changed my mind on that one) but once again I sure as hell wasn’t feeling great about it now.
It’s a Dad thing really because no one will ever be good enough for your daughter.
In my heart, I knew Aaron was all that.
He was much like me in many ways; he loved to cook, loved music, smoked a pipe and cigars, and asked me personally for her hand in marriage. And I knew he loved her and would protect her. That worked for me and she was truly happy, pretty much the bottom line.
Several hours prior to the wedding, my presence was requested at my oldest daughters house where some pictures were being taken. Caught me off-guard because I’d been told to meet everyone at the church before the wedding.
I arrived at the house and was ushered to a bay window in the kitchen that looked out over the backyard.
I was instructed to look out and not turn around until told to do so.
I assumed the bride was still being gussied up with make up and flowers and accoutrements I could never dream up.
The moment to turn around eventually came for me and there she was, my daughter, my Jenna.
My eyes filled with tears as I saw her standing there holding hands with my granddaughter, Meryl (the flower girl).
Jenna was everything that I thought she would be, her soft brown eyes were smiling and her face was radiant.
She was happy and palpably over the moon about her amazing day ahead.
I hugged her for a moment before croaking out, “You look beautiful,” into her ear.
And she looked so beautiful.
We waited in the back of the church for what seemed like an eternity before the processional song started.
She took my arm in hers and said, “Are you ready? Cause here we go.”
Yes, here we go, I thought.
Lazy and sultry summer days and cold snowy winter nights swsept through my mind when she used to be safely under my roof.
Those days were coming to an abrupt end with every single step we took.
I had to accept the fact that this is how life works.
You have to let go of something you love sometimes to ultimately get what you want.
For her, I wanted happiness and someone to fill her days with wonderful things.
In that small, silent moment, I understood and accepted that she’d found that someone.
And my heart smiled as I kept on walking down the aisle.