Wedding Therapy

I find writing a form of therapy. It makes me feel good to get emotions out that I don't normally talk about. I don't talk about them because if I do I cry, then stop talking, because I can't cry and talk at the same time.

From the time I got engaged until just recently, I had removed the part of my brain that knew my dad isn't here. Now that that piece of my brain has decided to return, I can't stop crying. I was just mopping my floors and sobbing my eyes out...REALLY....REALLY! Make it stop!!

Here's the thing, every little girl imagines their wedding day. I never really had those images with guys I dated, but I did think of my wedding. The one thing I have always known in thinking about my wedding: My daddy would walk me down the aisle, and we'd dance at my reception. On January 25, 2009 that reality was shattered and it's only something I can live in my dreams.

I have been asked multiple times, and each time it stings, because I have to explain my reasons, "Who are you going to have walk you down the aisle?" Most people wonder if I will ask my brother-in-law (who is like a brother to me) or my uncle (my dad's only brother), whom I both love very much, to walk me down the aisle. I think highly of these two men, but there is one, and only one person that is supposed to walk me down the aisle to give me away. My Daddy can't be replaced, so neither should the job of walking with me to my soon to be husband.

I can't wait for the comments, he'll be with you, because I honestly will want to yell at them and pitch a hissy fit....NO HE ISN'T. Yes, I am bitter, because I miss him more today than I did the day before, and if you do the math, the "missing" feeling, just weighs more and more heavily on your heart to the point where you can't pick your heart up off the floor.

So on the happiest day of my life, it will also be one of the heaviest hearted days, as I am not sure if I could miss my daddy more, than at the one event that he is suppose to be at and holding my hand during.

I write in my blog so I don't have to pay a therapist...if you are reading this, consider yourself granted a phD in psychiatric healing...as I knight you with the mop I had to put down because I was crying so hard I couldn't see the dirt on the floor, if this is any indication of how hard I was crying....it's been a REALLY long time since I've mopped, and it's really hard NOT to see the dirt on the floor...