Two weeks from tomorrow Becky and Jesse Dice will be married. Much to my surprise, I haven't posted any musings on the subject and I think that part of the reason is that when you live at Ground Zero for all wedding planning, there are so many details and so much anguishing pertaining thereto, that there is no energy left for any sentimental reflection. This is, I think, a good thing. It tends to keep one from wandering around in an emotional stupor, especially if that "one" is the father of the bride.
For a long time, I imagined myself being overwhelmed with emotion when it would come time to escort Becky down the aisle, but now I don't think that will happen. This is because the ceremony is part of the "show," and I don't mean that in any condescending way. Martha and I will be sitting there sweating out the enactment of those ceremonial details: Will they remember their vows? Did Sarah remember the ring? Did the photographer get that shot? When's the DJ getting here?
No, I think the moment will strike during that daddy/daughter first dance, when Becky and I will be alone on the dance floor; when whatever detail hasn't been attended to will remain forever incomplete. This is especially true since we have selected "The Riddle" as the song to which we will dance. Those of you who know me and know that one line in the song are right now saying to yourselves, "Oh, man!"
~The batter swings and the summer flies~
That line gets to me when I think about the end of the baseball season much less so I can only imagine how it will affect me on the 24th! Baseball has always been a special connection for Becky and me anyway. I coached her in Little League, I watched her perform as a Hagerstown Suns promo girl, and I taught her to keep score at Rebels' games. I have this feeling that many summers will fly before my eyes out there on the dance floor.
In any case, there has been one little detail that has given me a reflective pause: Those boxes, packed with stuff that is going from Becky's room to the Dice's apartment seemed to whisper, "This chapter's coming to an end, Dad! Time to start writing a new one," every time that I walked past them. Well, I'm looking forward to "reading" it, especially knowing that Becky couldn't have picked a better co-author.
Two weeks and counting . . .
Aww, Daddy! This made me cry! I also appreciate the fact that you didn't go on about how irrational I have been :)
Posted by: Becky | October 09, 2009 at 11:16 PM
Don't be sad brother. You're not losing a daughter but I'm gaining a new room. Becky, do you need any help moving out those boxes? My boxes are packed and I'll be bringing them up with me the weekend of the wedding. Will you have all your stuff out of my new room so I can move in? Sarah are you interested in trading rooms?
Posted by: Al Smith | October 18, 2009 at 03:58 PM