My 3-minute talk at daughter’s wedding

By Willie Jose

Getting married is one of life’s dreaded endeavors; despite doing all the needed preparations, thinking about all the ifs and other endless possibilities--the uncertainty of life brings much anxiety not only to lovebirds tying the knots but also to their respective parents.

When my youngest daughter, May got married a few months ago in Ohio, all I felt was joy and real excitement and I think I was the proudest and happiest dad, seeing my little girl and her husband, Fred lovingly caring for each other. As they went around the reception hall, thanking    their visitors--most of who had travelled afar—for joining them in celebrating and being part of their special day.

 During the reception party, May approached and told me that I would have only three minutes to say a few words in that part of the wedding when the bride’s dad is usually given a chance to say his piece. Although, I was not thinking of giving a long lecture, much less a short talk but   “ 3 minutes” is not enough to even to summarize   everything that matters—our feelings, our fond memories of May and our own anxieties.

 My daughter had been with us for almost 27 years, I didn’t know how I could squeeze everything in 3 minutes.

But that night, I had my most memorable 3-minute talk.

Despite that brief talk, now I can still remember advising my daughter, May and her husband, Fred, on the importance of making Jehovah God the center of their life; thus, they can easily cope and surmount whatever problems might come their way. And   when they sense some troubles on the horizon—pray to Him and surely He will give them the peace of mind.

Today, honestly, I can say that my family and I   are happy that our always-smiling and happy daughter has finally married, Fred, a kindhearted man whom we certainly know will always love and cherish May for the rest of her life; together they will be embarking on one of life’s most challenging endeavors —the marriage life.

Occasionally, I feel lonely and we have been missing her--she’s not around anymore to check it myself if everything’s OK with her, and also not hearing her say every morning “ Daddy, good morning”, and then she would kiss me and when she arrives home, and seeing me seating on my rocking chair, she would routinely ask me “ How are you Dad”, then she would kiss me. These are the little things that I have missing a lot. As they say in Tagalog “ Simple lang at mababaw ang kaligayahan ko “  

 I'll also miss May’s loving gestures such as when she would call and tell me, Dad you dress up and be ready I’ll pick you up and we’ll have dinner somewhere” So in short, now that she 5 hours away from us, surely there would be no more Ikki Sushi, our favorite Japanese restaurant on Kingston Road, no more Pho at Warden and no more Vei Pei. And no more the expression” Popeye the Sailor Man Tot Tot.” May loves to eat Popeye chicken

The   reality that she’s not here in our house anymore brings some feeling of   loneliness, more so when I see her former room empty. To ease that sadness, I’ve converted May’s room into my little library, so right now, I’m writing this article in her room. We’re missing   May’s “ noise” because normally when she sees   a whole chicken on our dining table, she would excitedly say“ OH Chicken”— and that's her favorite dish.

 Now we cook less and buy less; we ‘ve gotten rid of our chest freezer, seeing no need for stocking up foods. And when May left our home, that was the only time, when I thought to myself that “ maybe in the near future, we might sell our house, Lilia and I would have to move to a smaller house. For the first time in my life, this life’s downgrading idea has crossed my mind.

OH, how we miss our loving daughter. May, see you soon in Ohio!