We recently attended a wedding of a nephew. It’s really spectacular to be invited to these functions because at a certain stage of your life weddings and births slowly turn into funerals and eulogies. And we are now in the in-between-phase. That point in your life where jack-shit happens. The only spark of a social event is a forty year-old birthday party every now and again.
Things haven’t change since I last attended a wedding. The bride looked amazing in a big white meringue dress with a trail. The groom looked surprisingly handsome, although even Frankenstein would look semi-presentable in a tuxedo. At least he wouldn’t ruin all the photo’s. All three bridesmaids looked extremely uncomfortable in their weird colour, same themed dresses, which they will NEVER wear again. The three best men were standing big-chested, probably thinking about all the single lady reputations that will be ruined during the course of the evening.
The wedding march struck its first notes and doors swung open. People stood up in unison like a programmed robot army and the little girl throwing rose petals didn’t trip or fall. Success! Then the bride appeared in the opening and everyone gasped. A few mom’s (and dads) cried. The reverent spoke, rings were exchanged and the groomed kissed his bride. Popcorn replaced confetti. WTF?
The speeches were boring, but the MC was hilarious. (Yes, it was I) and the food was excellent. Dessert was a buffet so the wife was in heaven and I was slightly annoyed at the constant queue at the bar.
In order to prevent the piece from becoming to cynical, there were moments of greatness like the groom singing a song, and the father dancing with the bride, very uncomfortable though because without the 27 inch heels, her dress was a tad too long. It was time for the bride and groom to sway through their interpretation of a romantic song and the floor was opened. They dimmed the lights to allow the people without alcohol induced courage to join in. The wife and I laughed as we spun around the floor in our own little blissful world.
Then came my moment…
I stood up and walked purposefully to her chair. She was playing with her hair, twirling it around her fingers. Sitting in quiet awe, watching everyone intently. I pulled out her chair and asked her for the next dance. She looked up, beaming with a blend of excitement and shyness, placing her hand in mine. Together we walked onto the dance floor.
I told her how beautiful she was in her little black dress with the silver sandals. I took her gently around her tiny waist and she placed her hand on my shoulder. Then we danced. And her eyes sparkled.
I knew the song would end and I didn’t want it to. I wished that time could slow down, wished that our moment would last forever. I wanted to keep her as close to me for eternity, never letting her go. I knew it wasn’t meant to be. One day she would become that striking lady in the white dress. She will be a radiant and astonishingly gorgeous bride. She will marry the luckiest man alive. (I just pray that he doesn’t turn out to be a prick.) And then he will be the man who make her eyes smile, just like I did in that precious moments.
Our song ended with the last verse fading into silence. She looked up into my eyes and grinned with a wide, happy mouth. I lifted her high into the air and swirled her one final time. She giggled loudly and before I placed her on the floor she said: “Thanks daddy, I love dancing with you.”
She scurried over to my wife and as my love caught my gaze, I had to blink to keep the tear from rolling down my cheek.