Wedding Day

I see my daughter, playing in the bedroom. I wonder what she'll look like all grown up. I want to hold on to these days, but they disappear all too quickly. The little girl's reflection seems to morph in front of my eyes, and suddenly, it's 18 years later. I put the pearls on her neck as she checks her hair in the mirror one last time.

"Are you ready?" I ask her. I speak gruffly, trying to hold back tears.

"Yes, daddy."

The music starts. She takes her bouquet and we walk out of the dressing room.

"I love you, baby."

"I love you too, daddy."

She takes my arm. I flash back 18 years to that little girl I saw playing dress-up in the mirror--and I wonder how she got so big.