Beautiful Sorrow

As a dad, I have to say that it was a “roller coaster ride” of a long weekend. My daughter, Jacy, married her fiance, Andrew Stuck, on Saturday in a picture-perfect outdoor setting. Nerves were jittery but everything fell into place with only a few technical glitches.

Actually, I was much more nervous during the rehearsal the night before. I could only come with words like surreal, strange, and bizarre to describe my inner feelings and perspective. I had one line in the wedding and I flubbed it twice in the rehearsal! As a public speaker, that was strangely surreal. I’m sure there were some who thought I intentionally messed it up for comedic effect. Ordinarily, that might be true. But not Friday night. My brain couldn’t process all the feelings associated with walking my youngest daughter down that aisle, seeing her beau smiling and waiting for her, and then passing her arm to his.

Few of us slept well Friday night. I woke at 3:30 and couldn’t go back to sleep. I lay there worrying that I would trip on the steep hill of the processional and cause my daughter to tumble to the grass in her wedding dress. I reminded myself to practice walking down the hill once more before the guests arrived. Then I remembered many other duties and details that I shouldn’t forget, going over each of them in my mind and adding them to my mental checklist.

At the wedding ceremony itself, I am pleased to report that nervousness did not rule. It was replaced with excitement and joy. I confidently walked my daughter down the steep hill and remembered my single line, proclaiming it boldly for the back row to hear, “Her mother and I do.” It was an emotional and joyful ceremony capped by a laid-back and fun reception. The weather was perfect with sunshine and a light breeze. The large yard in front the Stuck family home was impeccably prepared and beautiful for the entire event. Lights were strung between the trees, paper lanterns hung like large ornaments. Toasts presented by the Maid of Honor and the Best Man were both entertaining and hilarious. Music and dancing added to the celebration and guests waved sparklers along the driveway as the young couple walked excitedly to their getaway car.

I slept great Saturday night. My heart was brimming with joy and some pride about the way it all worked out. My daughter’s extensive planning and key organizers and helpers made it all happen. It seemed that no detail was overlooked. I helped serve the cake but, apart from a short toast, I had little responsibility at the event. For me, that was unusual. But it allowed me to relax and focus on guests and family members who came to celebrate with us. It also allowed me to maximize my enjoyment during the festivities. I was able to focus and take it all in.

While “the kids” honeymooned, my surreal feelings returned a little. Dads spend decades raising their daughters and trying to protect them from… boys (like us). And then, one day, we’re expected to just turn them over to “some guy” and let him drive off with her. But, honestly, I was happy for the newly-married couple and excited for them to begin their lives together. This is part of a plan that is ancient and repeated through history. It is biblical and it is right. It is a beautiful part of life.

On Monday they came to the house to load the moving truck. We loaded their sparse furniture for their new apartment and followed them back to the Stuck’s family home. We finished the day by watching them open wedding gifts and cards, then finished loading the rental truck. Before they headed out on their cross-country trip to Mississippi, families gathered once more to share hugs and tears as we each said goodbye. I told myself (and them) that this was not goodbye, but only “so long for a little while.” We plan to see them again but we will miss them as we’re apart. We hugged and kissed and said our farewells.

A short time later I came home to an empty house, arriving before Jana since I took a different route home. The silence, as they say, was deafening. My daughter, her husband, and their cat were on their way to a new life. It would be months before we would hug them again. Sure, we could look forward to Skype, emails, texting and all sorts of technology to minimize the separation, but they were really gone tonight. The pain swelled in my heart and I couldn’t hold back the tears. Jana came home and gave me a sweet hug. I sniffled and wanted to sleep soon, if only to temporarily escape my sorrow. I laid my head on my pillow and, still, the tears ran down my face.

But I realized that this, too, is part of God’s plan. A man and woman should leave their parents and raise their own family where, one day, they would experience the same feelings I had now. It was designed. It was almost beautiful. My tears slowed but my sorrow persisted. I decided then that it wouldn’t be right to avoid these feelings. I should welcome them just as I loved watching our children grow. The pain in my heart was intense but I understood it better. It was a type of beautiful sorrow. And I could live with that.