I am reminiscing about something I did a few years ago – something that I had only done once before and that I won’t get to do again in my lifetime. It was one of life’s magical moments, one that has few parallels. One that I wish everyone could experience at some point in their lives, in some fashion. I walked a daughter down the aisle.

I would say I “gave her away” but I don’t think that has been done since Briscoe Darling, Jr. on the Andy Griffith Show. She wasn’t mine to “give away” but that doesn’t mean it was any less poignant or meaningful.

The occasion took place in an old industrial building in the South Loop of Chicago, in one of those venues where they keep raising the term eclectic to new levels. The guests had pre-wedding wine while wandering next to 8 foot tall wooden elephants that could be yours for only $26,000 and wash boards that reminded me of my grandmother’s basement. I expected to see Fred Sanford at any moment trying to complete a sale.

Moments before I escorted my beautiful daughter down the aisle, an old, dear friend, who also happens to be a writer, came up to me and whispered in my ear. She said something like “take it all in, remember everything you feel, then write about it, memorialize it”.  I thought to myself, “Gen, it’ll only be a short walk, a fleeting moment”.  But I accepted the challenge.

My first thought was how beautiful Laura was, what a poised and confident and accomplished young woman she was. Then I thought about how it seemed like such a short time ago that we brought her home from the hospital on a cold and dreary day in early September and how she and her older sister brightened the gloom and filled our “new” old house with warmth and purpose.

Then I thought about how long ago that day was and how much life had been lived since then. How I had gone from “young, aspiring lawyer” to “senior member of the firm”, how Laura had gone from newborn to practicing veterinarian and self-assured young adult. How many days and weeks and months and years had been lived and how they had been lived in such a short period of time. 

Then I thought of how truly special the moment was – walking your youngest daughter down the aisle with your other beautiful daughter, and your wonderful, brimming with life granddaughter Maggie, as her accomplices. In a lifetime of moments, could there be one more splendid?

And then I thought about how much the bride loved her waiting groom, how they had endured four long years of separation, the bride suffering through long New England winters and endless hours of study, and the groom dealing with the winds and snows of Chicago and the challenges of starting a career in a city where he knew no one. And I thought how their union was forged by these times and those distances and surely would survive the years ahead.

And then I thought about the bride’s grandparents and how proud they would have been of their granddaughters and their great granddaughter – Charlie and Mary, the King and Queen of Blacksburg “in the good old days” – whom the girls never knew – and Nannie and Bobo, the “leading citizens of Christiansburg” in their day, whom the girls did not get to know long enough.

And then I thought about how this wondrous time was made even more so by the presence of great friends with whom I had shared so much and who had helped me through many tough times, often when I probably didn’t deserve their patience and their comfort.

And I thought about my wife of course, and how much I wish she was there with me and how much I missed her. And I thought about her sons who were there, and how they had become true big brothers to my girls, and such great uncles. How we had become a true family.

And then I thought about how I had not always been there for my girls, how the challenges and mysteries of life had kept me from being the father I wanted to be at times. And then I thought about how much I loved my girls and how blessed I am that they return that love, despite my failings.

And then I thought “yeah Gen, it’s just a short walk, how much could you think of”.