Because June is the month for weddings, and fathers too. (And because we’re friends here, you get the actual wedding photo 🤣)
My father didn’t cry at my wedding, and I was glad. I wouldn’t have known what to do or how to react if he did. In fact, I went to great lengths to ensure that he wouldn’t, because if he, someone I never saw cry, started crying, then
I would start crying. That included abolishing the traditional father-daughter dance (though it wasn’t the only one my husband and I abolished), and thus saving myself from the heart-tugging, tear-jerking beauty of the song Butterfly Kisses. I’d already succumbed to that song once, in one of my classes at university, and I didn’t want to ever do so publicly again.
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