The Last Wedding

They received the news three months before the wedding and his wife and daughter considered postponing the event, that the time for celebration could come later, that the planning would keep everyone busy and he deserved to have peace, even if it was for a short period of time. With the smile that he had throughout the ordeal, he said no, that it was because he only had a short period of time left, that he wanted to see it through. He was going to see his only daughter get married. The sickness might take his life, but it wouldn't take this.

Invitations went out. Planning resumed. Everyone went through their routines, the only thing keeping them going was the smile on his face. He told them that he had learned to accept his fate, and once that happened, each day was a gift.

When the day came, everything was ready. Family and friends came from all parts of the country. No expense was spared. The multi-tiered pearl white cake was ordered from an award winning pastry chef. They had decided to have the wedding at the house because it was getting hard for him to get around. Flower arrangements gracefully adorned every room and the backyard where the ceremony would be held. A live jazz band played in the background.

On that beautiful Spring day, he almost looked healthy if you hadn't known how fit he used to be. For the first month after the call, he was still able to run everyday. Now he needed a cane, although he managed on this day without one. The family had kept the news from everyone but for some reason, they all knew something was wrong, even if they didn't know what. They saw them paying more attention to him. They saw his egnimatic smile, but it seemed different, weak. His clothes fit loosely on him and his gait was not that of the marathon trainer they had heard him to be. Whispers and rumors cast a pallor on the otherwise joyous day.

This didn't lost on the father of the bride. He saw the strange looks. He saw conversations take on a different tone when he entered a room. He noticed all this and it just wouldn't do. Everything could be taken away from him, but this was unacceptable.

When everyone was gathered in the yard for the wedding, he took a microphone and welcomed everyone to their house, to the wedding. He beamed charismatically as he went on, walking through the crowd, patting friends on the back, delivering corny jokes, working the crowd. And for a moment, everything felt normal again. A gloom lifted. People smiled. Some laughed. When he was done, he went back to his seat and his wife grabbed his hand and told him he was great.

When it came for the father daughter dance, he took his daughter by the hand and led her to the temporary dance floor they had set up on the lawn. He told her she looked beautiful and how proud he was to have her as his daughter. Then the music came on, a much exuberant number than expected, and he broke into a lively rendition of the Macarena. The crowd roared and clapped in approval until he motioned for the conspirator DJ to put on the planned music. As father and daughter started and swayed around the dance floor, she laughed and lovingly called him a loser.

The dance floor opened and his son-in-law took over. He motioned for his wife to join him on the dance floor now that he was without a partner. It took some convincing, but she could never resist him. As they danced, arms intertwine, she leaned in close and whispered in his ear. Please don't die, she said, choking back tears. She lifted her head from his shoulder. He just looked at her, smiling, and kissed her on the head.

Later that night, when everyone was gone, the guests, the jazz band, the florists, the caterers, the DJ, he walked through the house with the aid of his cane. It had been a good day. He had made it this far and it was great day.

In the shower, a heavy weight fell from his shoulders. As the water cascaded onto his face, he thought of how grateful he was to have been able to walk his daughter down the aisle, but his mind also wandered and he thought of the days he would be sure to miss. And for just a moment, he could not be strong anymore and tears flowed, mixed with water and went down the drain. He did not hold back. He would let it all out, because he would not do it when someone could see him.

His wife asked him how he was when he came into the bedroom. He smiled, kissed her gently on the lips, and told her everything was fine.