We packed the car and headed south. Daddy sat in his seat in the front and chatted occasionally, making note of various sites along the road. Some object or landmark triggered his memories, and we received stories of an event from his childhood or a funny tale of someone he knew.
He was hesitant to make the trip, not because he didn’t want to go, but because he didn’t feel confident to perform the wedding of his granddaughter. As some of the conditions normally associated with a long life took place, his mind wasn’t quite as sharp. He often got off track a bit, not remembering where he was going or how to get back on the trail. Growing cataracts along with macular degeneration began to have an effect on his sight as well which seemed to shake his confidence even more.
We stayed in a nice hotel right beside a cotton field. He looked out across the fields and remembrances flashed through his mind. I reminded him of the time he visited a family out in the country who needed additional help with their cotton harvest, and he volunteered us, for we all went out as a family, walked the rows of cotton, stuffed the fluffy balls into our burlap bag and got poked with the hard pieces of husks.
It was fun to meet up with family and take part in all the festivities. When it came time for the ceremony at the outside venue, I sat in the front so I could keep an eye on Daddy. Guests found their seats and it began to quieten down. Daddy stood at the top of the steps beside the groom. The attendants began to walk in. As they moved into place, Daddy saw another member of the bridal party start down the long walkway. He began to talk. Uh-oh. I wanted to run up the steps and say, “Not yet, Daddy,” but I refrained. He lifted his hands a bit and announced loudly, “Here comes the bride!”
The audience looked a bit confused. It was not the bride who walked the aisle, it was the maid of honor who made her way to the front.
Daddy was sure surprised when he saw her. Granted, she was his granddaughter, too, but not the bride. I guess he had a premonition of a future wedding. He somehow made a grand fumble recovery. The second time he announced, “Here comes the bride,” it was really her. That’s was quite a relief for the groom!
I felt so bad for Daddy because his lack of confidence was confirmed. It didn’t seem to bother anyone else. The cute, sweet, gentle little man pulled it off and everyone thought he was wonderful. Later, when Daddy and I talked about it, he managed to let loose of a good chuckle.
If memory serves me correctly, he took part in only one more grandchild’s wedding. Though he had a minimal part in that ceremony, he followed a rabbit down a memory trail. He talked about his brother who had died when Daddy was a small child. I’m sure his tale evoked a tear or two from the audience. It was a good story, it’s just that he never got around to connecting it to the wedding at hand. The next time he was asked to do a wedding, he declined.
I do have a message for Daddy’s granddaughter who was the maid of honor. Daddy had already left this earthly walk when she married. I attended the wedding with my family. It was a beautiful location with an old mill house, nice soft green grass and a perfect day. As I walked toward the waterfall that spilled into the river, I slowed my pace to wait for Daddy to catch up. I looked back, expecting him to be there, but he wasn’t. He had been my sidekick for quite some time. His presence was so strong, I knew, somehow, he was there. I could almost see him, hands lifted high, and hear him say, “Here comes the bride!” Yes, even she got to hear those words – just for her – a few years before! Some premonitions become priceless memories.
