memories
My mother told me that once you've lost someone, your moments of greatest happiness will also always be your moments of greatest sadness. For in those moments of tremendous joy we will remember the person we cannot share it with. With each day that brought me closer to my wedding, I was engulfed with the pain of not having my father to walk me down the aisle. Every little girl's dream and it could never be mine. I wanted the impossible. I wanted my father back.
This necklace is the first gift my father ever gave my mother. It has no monetary value. After my father died, my mother gave this necklace to me and I have worn it almost every day for over 30 years. I was wearing it on my wedding day. The Rabbi came in to see me before the ceremony, as it is tradition that the Rabbi be the one to place the veil over the bride's face. He saw the necklace and insisted I remove it. He explained that tradition dictates that the bride not wear any jewelry. I wanted to respect the Rabbi's wishes, he was a good man, he had officiated at my father's funeral and had stayed close to our family. He watched as I removed the necklace and set it aside. He placed the veil over my face and left the room. I heard the music begin to play. I had only a moment before it was my turn. I picked up the necklace and tucked it down the front of my gown, close to my heart. One way or another, my father was going to walk me down the aisle. And I'd like to believe that somehow he did.
memories
My mother told me that once you've lost someone, your moments of greatest happiness will also always be your moments of greatest sadness. For in those moments of tremendous joy we will remember the person we cannot share it with. With each day that brought me closer to my wedding, I was engulfed with the pain of not having my father to walk me down the aisle. Every little girl's dream and it could never be mine. I wanted the impossible. I wanted my father back.
This necklace is the first gift my father ever gave my mother. It has no monetary value. After my father died, my mother gave this necklace to me and I have worn it almost every day for over 30 years. I was wearing it on my wedding day. The Rabbi came in to see me before the ceremony, as it is tradition that the Rabbi be the one to place the veil over the bride's face. He saw the necklace and insisted I remove it. He explained that tradition dictates that the bride not wear any jewelry. I wanted to respect the Rabbi's wishes, he was a good man, he had officiated at my father's funeral and had stayed close to our family. He watched as I removed the necklace and set it aside. He placed the veil over my face and left the room. I heard the music begin to play. I had only a moment before it was my turn. I picked up the necklace and tucked it down the front of my gown, close to my heart. One way or another, my father was going to walk me down the aisle. And I'd like to believe that somehow he did.