Brother of the Bride
Last Sunday, I watched my little sister walk down the aisle… …swept away by her knight in shining amor. The only person I’ve ever prayed into being, finally the glowing bride she’d longed to be. It was a beautiful day …in every sense of the word. But it wasn’t easy... …not even close. Why, you might ask? Well…let’s just say I’m still figuring it out. All I know is when the day first started, I wasn’t too sentimental. In fact, the brunt of any emotional barrage came in the form of parental sympathy, knowing they were just hours away from being official empty-nesters for the first time in almost thirty years. Yet, as I watched my sister’s eyes sparkle, glimmering in the joy of her perfect man, I started to melt. For my little sister wasn’t so little anymore. Granted, she’s probably the most mature 21 year-old you’ll ever meet… …not to suggest I’m just now noticing that. Truth is : anyone who’s ever known my sister understands the...