At the altar, getting ready to kiss Hilary and sit down.

Courtesy of Bruce McCarthy 

Courtesy of Bruce McCarthy 

courtesy of Bruce McCarthy 

The pictures of the wedding and the reception are located at http://pro-pix.smugmug.com. Bruce McCarthy took a lot of terrific photos. Click on "Weddings" and then "Hilary & Travis."

I walked my daughter down the aisle several hours ago and boy those rental shoes are hurting my feet.

That's the line I said I'd write when I wrote my column for the paper a couple of weeks ago.

And it fits. Although I am now sitting at my kitchen table in bare feet. But they do hurt.

It is a few minutes past 11 p.m. on Saturday night. My daughter started the day Hilary Barkin and ends it Hilary Holtzhauser.

Here are some highlights:

* I got the willies walking down the aisle with Hilary. But I delivered my one line "Her mother and I" and got seated without incident.

* Reception was, by consensus, a good party. Everyone seemed to have a blast.

* I caught the bouquet the first time Hilary threw it. Sailed right over the bridesmaids. The second time she abandoned the heater and threw the slow overhand curve with better results.

* Our bridal party swing dance routine went off well. My fears were unfounded.

* Hilary and I danced to "My Girl."

We have a brunch for family tomorrow at our house. Sunday afternoon, the tux has to be back at Crabtree. Our kitchen is filled with flowers.

That is all I can muster right now. I am tired. I am older. I am done.

It was in the high 90s. The rehearsal dinner was at Hilary's house, outdoors. Travis' family got a big tent, and had fans going. We had a pig, courtesy of Buddy, the Holtzhauser's next door neighbor, he of the Pig Cooker 5000 that I described last Thanksgiving.

My Uncle Richard and Shirley made it up from Florida. Their presence put me of mind of my rehearsal dinner in 1979, when they came down with my parents from Massachusetts to Southwest Virginia.

I am composing my toast. Hilary and the bridesmaids are at the church, having their hair done. In a few minutes, I will lay out my tux. Then I will review the index card that has the dance steps on it.

Yesterday, driving between the tux store at Crabtree and the Rack Room at White Oak (where I bought some Timberlands), I visualized walking down the aisle and got a little verklempt. I am well-known for not getting verklempt.

The lesson is that emotion have their own agenda, beyond your control.

I am taking a vacation day today to attend to a variety of chores. 

I just mowed the yard. It is 99 degrees out.

I am drenched.

I have to go to Crabtree Valley Mall to pick up my tux. George has already pick up his, the woman at the store told me.

Katherine has run over to Hilary's house with some essentials. I have to get the oil changed in her car.

The rehearsal is around 6:30 at the church, and the rehearsal dinner is at 7:30 at Hilary's.

My sister got in last night from Rochester, and her children and their spouses are coming in today.

27 hours until the wedding.  

In the Westerns, two sentries are standing guard at Fort Apache, and one says: "Quiet out there tonight." And the other one says, "Yeah. Too quiet."  A moment later, an arrow comes flying in, and chaos ensues.

So it is quiet. But that means nothing.

On an unrelated subject, my sister is driving in today from Rochester, N.Y. with my brother-in-law. They spent the night in Richmond.  She was emailing me all the way down from her iPhone, which is way cooler than my first generation Blackberry. How come I can't have an iPhone? Margie has an iPhone. 

Today I have about a jillion things to get finished, including my Saturday column and an in-basket that is overflowing. I'm taking tomorrow off, with my major chores to pick up tuxes and go over the lawn one more time, although it doesn't really look like it needs it, but might by Sunday's brunch if I don't cut it, and we don't want the grass to look high when the out-of-town guests come over because I don't want anyone should talk. There will be other assignments, I'm certain.

I may forget to do this in the next couple of days, so I wanted to make sure and thank those of you who have been reading this since last fall.  This has been an educational experience for me and I hope it has been a pleasant diversion for you.

My Hilary, who is nothing if not organized, has just issued the first Official Wedding Communique via email to all relevant parties. I just got my copy as a Word attachment. Here it is. I have omitted the Sarbanes-Oxley Safe Harbor disclaimers and other legal boilerplate. All times are DST and are expected to be followed precisely, even those followed by "ish," which is not an excuse for dilly-dallying. Travis. Dad. George. Further instructions may follow. That is all:

Wedding Itinerary

Friday, June 6, 2008

Bridesmaid manicures—3pm @ Katherine Barkin’s house

Set up sound equipment @ reception hall—3pm

Music practice---5-6:30 flute choir, Crystal & Christian, Janna & Mike? Lisa & Crystal, Kenny B (at the church)

Wedding Rehearsal--6:30

Rehearsal dinner--7:30ish

Saturday, June 7, 2008

Girls getting ready at church--11:00 am (w/ Lila & Amy Catherine)

Guys getting ready in unknown locations—1 pm

Pre-wedding photos--2-3:15 (wedding party at church by 2 pm)

Wedding--4:00

Wedded bliss—4:45ish

Reception 5:30ish (possible pictures in the garden at Landmark…TBD)

Leave reception hall—9:30pm

That's a question everyone asks me. In the hallways, in meetings, at lunch.

Yeah, I'm ready. I mean, what's the big deal? I get the tux, I walk down the aisle. the preacher asks, "Who gives this woman," and I answer, "Me." Then I shake Travis' hand and sit down.

Not a lot to it.

I guess what they mean am I ready emotionally, psychologically. I would say yes. It would be different if Hilary was moving to another state. But she will be living about 10-15 minutes away.

It will be jarring to go by her empty bedroom, just as it is jarring to go into my son's empty bedroom. That's when I feel it. Weddings are weddings. They come and they go. Empty bedrooms are something you see every day.

Even when your kids go away to college, their bedrooms at home are reserved for them, sort of a permanent guaranteed late arrival. Even if they don't come home in the summer. George's room is still George's room, no matter that he shares an apartment now, on a year-round basis, with his buddies while he goes to N.C. State.

When a child leaves home for good, after they have set up their own, after-college household, the bedroom doesn't empty out immediately. There are things in the closet, stuff in the desk. Eventually, your children get around to taking items out. You are left with a residual, and eventually you go in and toss the stuff or put it up in the attic.

I'm ready for the wedding. Not the empty bedrooms.

Four days and counting. The shuttle is rolling out to the pad.

There are few things as irrelevant to the wedding as the father of the bride.  But I have found some things to keep me busy.

I put down mulch outside. Yes, I am about two months behind the rest of the neighborhood, and the homeowners' association has had its eye on me.
But now there is fresh mulch in the front, whereas my neighbors' mulch has been weathered by the rays of the spring sun. 

I raked up all the leaves out of the backyard that have been sitting there since last fall. That took me around four weekends.

I cleaned up the garage.  

I cleaned up my home office.

I have described this to my wife as the reverse-nesting phenomenon.  This is the opposite of what happens when a woman is about to go into labor.  Both times, when my wife was very close to giving birth, she started vacuuming the house. This is, according to lore, a sign that childbirth is near.  Now, I am preparing my household for the marriage of my daughter, or more specifically, for the brunch on Sunday for out-of-town guests.  I don't want anyone should show up at our house and see a cluttered garage.

Saturday was the bridesmaids' luncheon. I was not there, of course, but Katherine was thoughtful enough to bring some sandwiches home for me in a little box.

Sunday night, Hilary and Travis ate dinner with us.  Afterwards, I helped Travis wrestle a china cabinet down from the attic to his pickup for their new house.

It is five days until the wedding. Friday, I will go with my son and pick up our tuxes. The rehearsal is early Friday evening and the rehearsal dinner is Friday night.

I haven't written my toast yet, but there is time.