Happy or Sad?

I hold a picture in my hand right now. The picture shows what looks like a 40ish man walking a bride down the aisle of a church. Neither of these people looks happy. I wonder why and then I recall why. I remember that evening well because it was my wedding day.

Three hours at the beauty shop that day with one of my bridesmaids accomplished nothing. The humidity had slowly removed the curls from my hair. The weather also affected my make-up. The perspiration ran down my face washing away my foundation, blush and even my eye shadow.

When I arrived at the church, I dreaded putting my long-sleeved, lace wedding dress on. I re-curled my hair with hot rollers, and reapplied my make-up. Mom helped me with my dress trying not to ruin my curls and make-up. I then waited for that once in a lifetime walk down the aisle. I felt ugly instead of pretty thanks to the busyness and the heat.

First my Mom and my groom’s parents entered the sanctuary. The bridesmaids walking arm in arm with the groomsmen would soon follow them with the flower girl and ring bearer close behind. I listened to the music in the back picturing the events taking place. When I stepped out into the foyer, I looked at Dad and smiled. He looked so handsome but also very sad.

“You look beautiful, Cindy,” he said. Tears started rolling down his face. I stood there startled. I only remembered two other times when I witnessed my father crying.

“Dad, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just feel like I’m losing my little girl,” he said as he brushed the tears away. He grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket, blew his nose and wiped away the tears.

I remember thinking many things in those few brief moments. Thoughts like, “I’ll just call this off,” and “This isn’t worth making my Dad sad.” I felt guilt, sadness, and even a bit of resentment toward my groom. Tears welled up in my eyes too. I hugged my precious father and we both cried.

“We better get going,” he finally said. He patted my back and handed me a Kleenex.

We walked toward the sanctuary. I wiped away one more tear as we stopped to listen to my future sister-in-law read the poem I'd written for my husband-to-be. The Wedding March began and we walked forward.

I clung to Dad’s arm down that long aisle. I thought about those special moments we shared in the foyer and squeezed his hand. Then I smiled as I looked straight ahead because there stood a very handsome man, my husband-to-be. I felt pride and happiness. The sadness vanished.

This month on August 21, that handsome man, David John Kingsbury and I will celebrate 30 years of marriage. We’ve had a wonderful life together.