As another cross of the proverbial calendar marks the end of another Father’s Day, I collapse into my chair and begin to think on my upcoming nuptials. Within my palette of colors and whirling images of centerpieces, I envision a day of romance with the air of whimsy coupled at the peak. For me, everything is as perfect as it can be. The music I chose the first time I heard the song would play for the procession. All of the décor matched to my mismatched and sincere demeanor falls into place with each footstep of bridesmaid tucked arm in arm with a groomsman. All fits, except one piece, remains missing:
My Dad.
I had the fortune of knowing and loving not only my father, who passed five years ago but my best friend’s (and mine by extension) father, who unexpectedly died in May. My mother and my best friends mother will walk at each of my sides, holding their picture on that day. And though my heart is humbled at the kindness and love these women bestow upon me, I hold myself to the hollowness of a fatherless march.
Father, for most girls, is her first love. He is the man who cradles you in their arms and protects you from the world. A father lifts you into the air and places you on their shoulders to let you feel like you and the clouds mesh as one. For those who lived life without a father, I cannot imagine the cave of sadness welled within you, or not. Maybe you have made your great despite whatever parental structure life granted you. I can only know my story, and to speak from the heart of grief.
For all the girls who will walk down the aisle alone, know a few things:
You can hold back the tears, so it doesn’t ruin your mascara. It’s okay.
The moment before you step onto the bed of petals your flower girls (or persons) have laid for you, take a deep breath. Allow the grief to subside, if you want. This is your wedding, and the process of grief bears a different person to each. But, it is okay to not cry. It is okay to cry. Just remember in a few steps, this part will be over, and the merrier events (like marrying the person you love) will wash over you.
You can dread that moment, but know that if it is a moment that your Father knew would make you happy. He is Happy.
If your dad is a person you are missing, the bet is on that he wanted you to be happy. After the moment, as aforementioned, give yourself the breath of relief you needed. You made it. You love someone enough to pledge your life to him. And if that doesn’t make any dad smile, then call me a monkey’s uncle. (Or whatever cliché dad joke your dad made.)
It’s okay to reserve a seat, or a song, for them.
Before my second dad passed, I did not want to do anything in memorial for those passing. The thought of my dad not seeing this moment caused so much pain I had no desire to reminisce on that day. However, in lieu of my second father’s untimely death, I forged a change of heart. I have a poster with a reserved seat for those who have passed. I also created a slideshow for all of mine and my fiance’s family who have gone on to better pastures before the wedding date. This creation allowed me to have a moment of grief in the midst of joy.
It’s also okay if you don’t want to.
As I said, the different strokes line fills in completely here. Whatever gives a bride some semblance of peace on the day she wishes more than anything that her father could reappear, then so be it.
You have the strength of your dad within you.
Your dad may not be with you, but the parts of him that reside in you, whether through learning or genetics, remain. He gave you more than a wide toothy grin and a strange love of hot dogs; he gave you the strength from all the love he poured into you.
It’s okay to say that this part of your wedding is going to suck.
That second, as the song peaks to begin your walk, part of that might be bittersweet. Hell, I’ll be honest, it is going to suck. It will feel partially unreal. This is okay. Again, look at the person you love. Go full steam ahead with the one you love. You will make it.
You are not alone.
The entirety of my catharsis in writing this article was to reach out to other brides or future brides who might have the same or similar situation. Grief begets isolation, and isolation begets loneliness, and by the end of it you feel like the only girl in the room dreaming her dad was there holding her hand. You are not alone in this moment. Reach out and feel your sisters in arms to help you through this period.
You are not alone.
The entirety of my catharsis in writing this article was to reach out to other brides or future brides who might have the same or similar situation. Grief begets isolation, and isolation begets loneliness, and by the end of it you feel like the only girl in the room dreaming her dad was there holding her hand. You are not alone in this moment. Reach out and feel your sisters in arms to help you through this period.
It’s also okay to know that your wedding will be a great day. Just as dad would have wanted.
The hollowness will remain, but the swarm of love by family and friends who are ecstatic at you becoming linked with another individual will give you the momentum needed to let yourself enjoy your day. You deserve happiness. You know deep within the well of sadness, your dad would have wanted you happy as well
….And there’s cake. Let’s not forget there is cake.
Happy Father’s Day to all Dads, near and far.
