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  • Writer's pictureDesi

Father of The Bride: A Retrospective Memory

Updated: Apr 20, 2023

My sisters wedding video is the only video I have left of my father. Her relationship ran its course but I still want to watch it every June, not to see them get married and party at the reception, no. I watch it because it allows me to see my father again in something other than in pictures. I watch as he walks my sister down the aisle and kisses her forehead, a signature of his affection. I watch and let it play back from my perspective of that day, the camera capturing the moments and angles of my father that I want to remember forever. It makes me sad that I'll never feel his kiss on my forehead or have the pleasure of having him walk me down the aisle. No memories of him watching me cross milestones. Everything you plan on accomplishing, the adventures you set out to go on and the people you plan on accomplishing and going on the adventures with feel so immortal in your thoughts and plans. You never take a moment to think what it would be like to be on this earth without them... until you have to.

At the reception, as everyone settles down to eat, I watch as the camera man asks everyone from the wedding party, myself included, to record well wishes for the newlyweds. I watch as the camera switches over to my father, his voice shaky, he was always a talkative man but his lips quivered as he talked about my sister on her special day. He had his black hair brushed back as he always brushed it, his head full of hair stood out against his silk sky blue vest and white button up shirt that were nicely cuffed around his wrists, his glasses holding on to the glasses holder around his neck. He was never without them. His hand shook as he said his special message for my sister and her then husband, keeping it simple and eloquent. It was her day yet I imagine that his words were for me. What would he say if it were my special day? Would he be approving? Would he finally say the things I never heard him say? Would he say the things he couldn’t tell me while I was growing up?

I guess I'll never really know will I? For now...

...rewind... him speak all over again...

"Hi Mija..."

**This is an original piece of non-fiction written by Desiree Gaitan. This story and others alike belong to her.

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