I walk down the aisle, holding the hand of this stranger next to me.
Once I held her in my arms, a tiny miracle with dark eyes and perfect face and a smile that hurt me just to see it, knowing life could so easily take it from me.
As the years passed, she grew, in joy and wonder and love, and I was her hero, her teacher, her protector, enemy, adviser, friend.
I kept her warm when she was sick, gave her comfort when she grew scared, and tried to keep the world away, to always keep her safe.
Today, I look at this woman and think about training wheels and bedtime stories, birthday parties and brave school recitals, tears and smiles and laughter.
I will miss you, my little girl, even as I place your hand into his, and kiss you goodbye.
Originally published at Six Sentences, but it’s gone now. You can order the book at http://www.amazon.com/dp/1450571050/ref=rdr_ext_tmb