There are events in life that bring out the sentimental side of you more than others.
Your daughter’s wedding day is one of them.
Our countdown to my daughter’s Big Day is exactly one month. We’re getting wrapped up in the details — mailing invitations, making tablerunners, preparing the menu (and yes, Don, sausage balls will be included) and so many other things that are above my paygrade but not necessarily my checkbook.
But I digress.
In thinking about the actual Wedding Day, I get a little sad because there’s going to be somebody missing.
My father, who died seven years ago last Friday, adored my daughter. He had raised two boys so when granddaughters came into his life there was nobody happier.
Sally was the youngest granddaughter, the one who lived nearby and the apple of his eye. My dad, never someone who would be described as agile, would curl up in the floor with her to have a tea party that might last an hour. He sipped a lot of pretend tea and ate a lot of pretend cookies.
They played games together, laughed together and went for walks together. He carried her on his shoulders whenever she asked, even when he was much more tired than she.
That didn’t matter. Sally had him wrapped around her little finger, much like she does her father and other grandfather, even if she didn’t know it.
When she was in preschool and kindergarten, my dad would often pick her up early so she didn’t have to stay in daycare the extra few hours while her mother finished teaching. They would go to the playground at the park or spend time at home doing whatever Sally wanted to do.
They had a special relationship, one they both treasured from the first time they saw each other. It was love at first sight.
My children were fortunate to have both sets of grandparents nearby as they were growing up. They are grandparents whose priorities of God, family and friends never changed. They are the role models you read about in books but didn’t think really existed.
They have provided an example of how you’re supposed to behave in every situation that life throws at us.
My father faced death gracefully, maybe because he knew something better was waiting. My mother’s strength, especially during these last seven years after losing the love of her life, has been overwhelmingly encouraging.
My wife’s parents are amazing people who do so much for so many, including us. They are always there, always giving and always helping. They’re the solid rock of the family. We count on them and so does everybody else.
Both sets of grandparents also carried that unconditional love for their grandchildren. They could do no wrong in their eyes.
I know if Dad were here, he would be happy and a little sad at the same time watching Sally walk down Ashland’s longest center church aisle next month.
After all, she was always his little girl, too.
MARK MAYNARD can be reached at mmaynard@dailyindependent.com or (6060 326-2648.
