Job one: Don’t cry

Elizabeth and John
engagement photo

My daughter Elizabeth tells me I have two primary responsibilities next Saturday when she gets married:

1. Walk her down the aisle;
2. Don’t cry as I walk her down the aisle.

I guarantee I’ll be at least 50 percent successful.

Elizabeth doesn’t want me to cry because if I cry then she’s afraid she’ll cry and ruin her make-up.

I get it. Job one as FOB - father of the bride - is don’t cry.

Elizabeth’s mother had very good advice for me when told of my instructions: “You won’t cry. You’ll be too busy smiling.”

True enough.

It’s indicative of the roller coaster of emotions that accompany this wedding. My little girl -- who just barely grew out of playing with her Barbie House, who just barely learned how to drive a car, who just barely graduated from high school -- is getting married.

She’s marrying a terrific guy who is a perfect complement - a yang to her yin.

I just have to separate the 28-year-old woman from the daddy’s little girl.

As FOB (which, by the way is much more preferable to the SOB I’ve been called at times) I am expected to act the grown-up, grow a pair, man-up and do my duty to give my daughter away without a tear or a sob or a choke.

Good luck with that.

Given the right set of circumstances, I can well ‘em up with the best of ‘em. Heck, I cried when I heard Paul Potts sing “Nessun Dorma” on the English talent show "Britain's got Talent" back in 2007. (And I don’t think I’m alone - more than 98.4 million people have watched the YouTube video.)

So the not-so-small matter of my daughter’s nuptials is likely to put a lump of emotion right where my throat is supposed to be.

But I’ll soldier through. I’ll smile through it all. I’ll do my job as FOB. And I’ll find another time to shed a tear or two or three.