Weddings. Most of the ones I’ve been to were mine. So if I’m a little tarnished on the idea, it’s my own fault. But now it’s my little girl who’s getting married. My youngest. The first to commit. The first to say ‘yes’. Of course she is 27 years old, well beyond the age of consent, a bona fide grown up.
But…
And her fiancé is not only sweet, gorgeous, and brilliant, but he loves her. He’s loved her through bed-bugs, melt-downs, moves, and pms. That says a lot for him. And she loves him. That says a lot for him, too.
But…
And they bring out the best in each other. Together they shine like polished apples, and they laugh a lot. They encourage each other to follow their dreams, eat healthy, work out, sleep in…. They’re a great team. They’re like two peas, like Cinderella and The Handsome Prince, Romeo and Juliet, Ginger and Fred, Tweety Bird and Sylvester.
But…
That’s just it…there are no buts. Try as I might, I’ve failed to find a single flaw in this relationship. She’s my girl, my dear Jenny Rose, and she’s marrying the perfect man for her. I couldn’t be happier for them. And I couldn’t be happier for me!
writing for self-discovery 
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