Month: August 2014

What makes a wedding special? Is it the flowing white dress? The freshly arranged flowers? The perfectly coordinated tableware?

As a chronic cry-baby watching the bride come down the aisle, for me, that’s the moment that defines the day. It’s not just how beautiful she looks after hours of prepping. It’s not her choice in music or how well she times her two step. From the moment the entire congregation stands to witness her walk, the whole atmosphere pulsates with love. Love for the bride. Love for the groom. Love for what appears to be a fairy tale unfolding before us.

That aisle, long or short… inside a church or down a sandy beach, is a journey in itself. If I could offer a piece of advice to the future brides out there; pause for a minute before you begin that walk. Look out at the faces of all your friends and family, think about all the steps they’ve been there for before this moment. From first steps, to big steps, and likely a few missteps along the way…

Smile,and remember, as you face your future anxiously waiting at the end of the aisle, that they’ll be with you every single step of the way.

At the ripe old age of 18, I graduated from high school and set out to begin my never-ending university career. I was one of the few of my group of friends who would be staying at home and attending our local university….. and it devastated me. Years later, I’d realize that leaving town would have robbed me of spending time with my father during the last years of his life (So you see…everything does happen for a reason).

At the time though, beginning a new adventure with the same city I’d lived in my entire life as the backdrop seemed anticlimactic. Despite that tantrum, here I sit, ELEVEN years since the start of that chapter, in a house only two streets over from where I was raised. Every morning I get up, seemingly before the rest of the world, to walk my German shepherd, Bruce, before work.

Each day I set out on foot into the familiar neighborhood, and every time I do, I marvel at what it brings me.

I walk past the homes of my grade school friends – all long since moved out. I see their faces, young and full of the easy joy that only children radiate so brightly. I pass the site of my first kiss and I congratulate myself on having good taste even then. I laugh as I easily climb the hill that used to give me so much trouble on my hot pink bike. I brace myself for the barking of the dogs that scared me when I’d accompany my brother on his paper route. I say a silent prayer as I pass the childhood home of one of my classmates who was killed in a tragic mining accident (an all too frequent occurrence is this city), remember what a beautiful person he was, and hope that his parents find the strength they need every day to face the world without their son. Finally, I circle around my own childhood home, where my mother still lives today. I look into the large backyard, half expecting to see my father standing out there with Tavie, our family dog who sadly now rests right beside him in the cemetery. At first, it makes me sad…. But then, I can only feel grateful. I don’t know anyone who gets to experience mornings the way I do. In just a twenty minute walk, I cycle through a lifetime of memories. Good or bad, they’ve brought me to today. They remind me of who I wanted to be, who I am, and who I stand to be, if I just let them pave the way.