“I’m Taking My Girl Down That Aisle, Whatever It Costs.”
My dad had dreamed of walking me down the aisle since I was a little girl. Even after he was diagnosed with a terminal illness and could barely walk, he refused to give up.
“I’m taking my girl down that aisle,” he told me.
On my wedding day, he slowly made his way down the aisle in his wheelchair while everyone waited quietly.
My dad died just 12 days later.
Nine days after his death, our photographer sent us 411 wedding photos.
When I reached photo 212, I noticed something strange.
My dad’s hand was pressed against my husband Daniel’s jacket pocket while Daniel leaned down toward him.
“Daniel… what did Dad give you?”
He walked away and returned with an old photograph.
It was a picture of my dad holding me as a newborn.
On the back, in his handwriting, were the words:
“I’ve been holding her since this day. Now I’m trusting her to you. Take care of my girl. I trust you.”
Then Daniel told me the truth.
Dad had given him the photograph before the wedding and asked him not to give it to me that day.
“She’s having a good day,” he had said.
And suddenly, I understood.
Dad wasn’t trying to give me away.
He was trusting someone else with the most precious thing he’d ever held.
His daughter.