I aged twenty years in an instant when Vicent and Niece came down the procession aisle. That would be myself, many years in the future, walking to the same bridal music with my daughter — maybe different city, different venue, different setting, but myself nevertheless, only greyer and more wrinkled. Would I be so lucky?
I watched this kid grow since her birth. Now she glowed in that beautiful gown. Decades of memory vividly flashed by. Emotions, complicated, swirled up so strongly. There was this lunch in San Diego when I casually brought up the subject, “So, how is your love life recently?” Surprised. She started carefully teaching me his name.
Will there be another wedding in a few decades where I will be the grand-uncle of the bride? Would I be so lucky to feel oh-so-old and happy at the same time again?
And I end this with Dr. Phil’s advice:
Grow your marriage.
Relationships are negotiated, and the negotiation never stops. It’s always a give-and-take, always requires work. It’s like if you planted a garden and came back six months later—you wouldn’t even be able to find it. You have to tend it, nurture it, feed it, weed it, deal with the problems.