I am a planner. I own a book called How to Pack, color code my shirts in my closet, and worship at the shrine of Brother P-Touch Labelers. Every year, I take a moment (on January 11th – my birthday) and write down my goals for the year. This year, the list looked a little something like this:
- Make Kiss My Tulle profitable
- Graduate college
- Plan wedding
- Remodel house
- Open an etsy store
- Reach goal weight
- Find a job
- Pay extra on student loans
Then, life hit – and here’s how my list looks now:
- Make Kiss My Tulle profitable – DONE
- Graduate college – DONE
- Plan wedding – Eh
- Remodel house – Eh
- Open an etsy store – Nope
- Reach goal weight – Eh
- Find a job – Nada
- Pay extra on student loans – Bitch, please
See, things were trucking right along like clockwork. I was checking items off my list like a demon. Then, July came and with it a phone call from my mom that changed my life. My dad had cancer. And only 30 days to live. And one of the first things he said after getting the news was, “now I won’t be able to officiate Cris’s wedding.”
That? Was not going to happen. The Boy and made a decision, bought tickets, flew up to Alaska, and got married in a quick civil ceremony (hastily planned in just three days). My dad officiated, it was nothing like I had planned or dreamed of, I got to dance with my daddy, and it was perfect. Truly, the highlight of my year.
I’m still planning a May wedding. It’s “the one” that I wanted. Unfortunately, that wedding will not include my dad. He’s taken a turn for the worse and, as I write this, I am sitting next to his bed where he cannot speak or move and labors to even breathe.
But I'm not upset because I already got my “dream” wedding – even if it wasn’t the one that I had originally planned. And my dad got one of his last wishes.
For more One Day in December bloggers, check out Shannon’s (of Shannon Kelly Photography) post from yesterday and tune in to Simply Savannah Events tomorrow for Layla’s take.