You know what's the worst part of a wedding? When the bride dances with her dad. I am so overcome with jealous rage & crippling sadness that I must immediately exit, usually to a quiet place, like a bathroom stall, where I cry & cry. And cry.
Having your dad die sucks, bottom line. Having him die WAY before his time? Worse. Watching him get sick & die?? Simply awful.
But that dance, that special tug-at-your-heart-strings glorious moment?
So for future reference, if we're ever at a wedding together and the bride and her father start to dance, you'll know where to find me.
Do me a solid and buy me a drink when I emerge from the ladies room, ok?