Saturday, January 16, 2010

The Wedding

I went to a wedding. A young lady I was a leader for at church 5 years ago got married today. I also happen to be pretty good friends with her dad, so it was fun to see him in a tux and watch him dance like a crazy person.

I went with Mel and Kirk and another married couple. We sat with the extended family since they go to church with us and we knew them. Besides family, we were the only ones from our church who were invited (her dad is a member of our church, her mother is catholic, they are now divorced). The food was tasty and the conversation enjoyable.

And then they start doing all that reception stuff…the couple’s first dance, the daddy daughter dance… and that’s when it all started.

I watch my friend, his arm around his daughter, as they talk between themselves. He is not often openly tender, and I loved seeing him lay his head on her shoulder for a moment and her whisper- sing the words they are dancing to into her dad’s ear…the sweet and tender verses from “Butterfly Kisses”. It was their moment. And it was special. And before I knew it, I felt a tear escape from my eye. First, simply because it was a lovely moment, and I enjoyed being able to view it. Then, something inside of me clicked, and my mind flashed forward 15 years to the day when Maryn would marry. And this moment was absent. Because she had no father to take her to the floor and whisper how much he loved her, and how she was the most beautiful bride he had ever seen. And a sob caught in my throat, and the single tear was no longer alone.

And then I felt it. My heart was breaking. Not for me necessarily (although I will confess sitting between 2 couples who are openly affectionate, and watching a wedding in progress isn’t exactly joy promoting for me), but for my daughters. How unfair it is they will never have a daddy to be for them what my father was for me, and what my friend was for his daughter. They would never have that moment with their daddy that would be only for the two of them, a moment I know is special because I understand how extraordinary that bond is. My own father loves all of his children, but a daddy and his daughter…it’s just different. Ask my sister, ask my dad. We still call our father “daddy”, because in our hearts we might as well still be the little girls crawling up onto his lap, showering him with smiles and kisses, because we know we are his soft spot. And I could not imagine not being able to have that moment with my own daddy... it would have crushed me.

Suddenly, my entire body shook with silent sobs as the woman sitting next to me (also a friend) put her arm around me and the tears fell on her shoulder. It was only a minute and I withdrew slowly, excused myself quickly and quietly, fighting the growing pain in my chest and scurried out of the building. I walked around outside without a coat, waiting for the pain in my feet (I was wearing heels) and the soggy cold night to overtake the sorrow in my soul. I was hoping for a numbing affect. I cried, and walked and breathed deeply.

And the pain began to dissipate.

I returned to the party, danced the “Twist” with my sister, and a slow song with the brides little brother (I use that term loosely…he’s 6 foot 6) and we left, giving our love and best wishes to the bride and groom, and passing hugs around generously with the extended family. I hugged and said goodnight to my friend and reminded him to enjoy the evening and not look like he was going to tear his new son-in-law's arms off every time he saw him touch his daughter.

When I got home an hour later, my kids greeted me…or they greeted the cookies and ice cream I brought home. Whatever. But my 7 year old son asked me how the wedding was, and if the food was good. And then he looked at the floor and sighed. “You need to have a wedding mama. We really need a father.”

I know my love. Everyone needs a father.

2 comments:

  1. You have an amazing ability to make me cry and smile at the same time! Perhaps because I know you, and because I love you (and because I somewhat relate). And perhaps because you are very able to create a feeling with the turn of a phrase.

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  2. You made me cry as well, it is beautiful really, the way you tell it, I can feel with you. I'm not sure what it would be like growing up without a dad. I know that when I go to weddings, I look forward to the day I get to dance with my dad. I even have our song picked out. To miss that opportunity, to walk down the aisle alone...I can't imagine.

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