I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and said,
"Dad, I am getting married."
The look I saw after I slowly opened my eyes was not the look I had hoped for.
This is not good, I thought to myself. That looked was filled with horror...and a little sadness. I looked away.
My father and I are very close. Ever since my mother, the love of his life, decided that marriage and motherhood were too much for her, it has just been me and him. Ten years of fights, misunderstandings, teenage rebellion, college craziness and now, I was getting married.
Surely, he should understand, I tried to encourage myself. I am of age now and God has blessed me with someone who is committed to Him and me.
My mother's desertion destroyed any positive notions that my father had ever had about marriage. Sure, he is a born again christian and believes in the institution of marriage. But not for himself. A double standard, I know. That is exactly what I keep telling him. One time as a teenager I brought home a boyfriend, excited for my father to meet him. That's how close we were and still are. My father had a fit. Something about my boyfriend not looking like he could afford my dowry. Needless to say that was the first...and last time I made that mistake. He would always joke about how if things remained as they were, just me and him, he would be very content. As the years wore on I began to wonder whether he was serious.
I met my fiancee` at church. He and my father became good friends after a few months of both of them volunteering with the teen boys' ministry. When we started dating, I thought of telling my father immediately but I held off waiting to see if anything would come of it. Then last week, he proposed. I had no choice but to tell the man who would walk me down the aisle.
I turned back and looked into the mirror. I knew why I looked horrified and sad. I was scared my father would not support me and I felt like I was abandoning him,hence the sadness.
But this had to be done. My watch said 6pm. He should be home anytime now. I waited and sure enough a few seconds later, I heard the door being opened downstairs. Saying it in person will go better than practicing in the mirror did. I hoped.
"Sweetheart, I'm home!"
I took one last look in the mirror and smiled. Just breathe. I turned and walked out of the bathroom and downstairs into the kitchen where my father was pouring himself a glass of water. He smiled as soon as he saw me.
"Dad, I am getting married."
