It was in this moment I knew, what she meant when she told me to float.
Here, in this church, pews lined with those who had been cheering us on, I felt myself float.
And as we vowed to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, a rush of our heavenly father’s love enveloped us.
A love I thought I needed to earn; one that couldn’t possibly be meant for this broken, sometimes bitter, woman.
But, yet I stood with this man, too impossibly good for words to describe, in front of six ecstatic girls pledging to walk with him forever. The father’s love for us palpable.
It happened because I said yes.
When feelings lay heavy on my heart to become Catholic, I said yes.
When he whispered in my ear that if a relationship was of his design, it demanded more, I let the old fall away and said yes to the new.
When my daughters said it was time for Momma to fall in love, I said yes to the trying which lead to those three new precious souls running into my arms and the subsequent yes to all that loving.
And when he called me to float down that aisle to the man in the gray suit who was pledging to become one with me, I listened.
I said yes.
And I floated.