Thinking of you, Dad

Tomorrow will be the 32nd anniversary of my father's death. I was just a young woman when he died, terribly, of cancer.

I still miss him.

He would be pleased about my upcoming marriage, I think, and he would like my future husband.

When I was a child, Dad used to talk to me at the kitchen table. He said I'd get married one day and have a family of my own. That would be the most important thing in the world to me.

I think it will be. I feel so blessed to have found someone who is a good and amiable companion, who is honest and true. And, though we will have no children, I will come into a vast network of nieces, nephews, cousins and other family members from his side.

I love it.

I just want to grab the little niece who will be flower girl and hug her tight. And the nephew, who will be ring-bearer, who will even get a haircut, he's so excited about the ceremony. They're all looking forward to getting a new aunt, and I, them.

When my sweetie and I watched the Veteran's Day parade downtown, I looked at all the elderly vets — the ones of my father's generation. I suddenly got a strong sense of my father's presence there, with me. Probably the power of suggestion, but I was happy for that presence, and comforted by it.

I believe that presence will be with me when I walk down the aisle.