As some of you know, my daughter was married last month. I ignored all my own rules and wrote about this very personal matter. The next day, I even posted a picture:
Your responses convinced me that it is occasionally okay to share a bit about my own life, and I want now to share this second picture. After several weeks of anxious waiting, we received the proofs from the wonderful wedding photographer, Sarah Bastille. Even I have not yet been able to look at all 900 of them, but this one is important. If you read my earlier blog, you know that I was anticipating the moment before my daughter and I started down the aisle. This was the moment that I had imagined and dreamed about and longed for.
When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer in 1993 and was terrified that I would not survive to raise her, I thought about not being at her wedding. When I was diagnosed with a second breast cancer in 2005, I was much less panicked about her future, but just as sad when I realized that I might be denied a part in it. As the years passed and my thoughts became more focused, I concentrated on this instant. Would I be there, so grateful and joyful and proud, to shepherd her through this final rite of passage? Would I be there to walk beside her? I was.