The Feeling of My Father’s Arm

“You’re gonna need these. You know you will,” I told my father jokingly, handing him one of those travel-size tissues. We were at the front door of the chapel about to start walking down the aisle. He laughed softly and just looked at me with a soft but sad smile. He reached out his arm for me to wrap mine around. The silent mutual feeling of being overwhelmed was interrupted by the sound of the grand piano and the grand doors began to open. From that moment on I knew my life was about to change. As my father started walking me down the aisle, a mix of feelings went through my head, both the feeling of loss and the feeling of gaining someone in my life. All eyes were on me but all I could think of was the feeling of my father’s arm wrapped around mine. The softness of his new suit and every wrinkle it had against my arm, from the bend of his elbow. Even with my heels I still wasn’t quite as tall as him. Looking up truly made me feel like a child again, all the memories of my childhood, dancing in the kitchen having fun, living together, and trying to always find ways to stay up later than my bedtime. It hit me how much time has passed and that not just me but my father is also growing older and older, and that it’s impossible to tell how much time he has left. Despite all that here he is walking me down to give me off about to be husband. I couldn’t describe the words of appreciation I had for this man I call my father except “I love you,” I whispered as he let go of my arm to leave me at the altar for the next chapter of my life.