At My Daughter Dana's Wedding

Separation is the goal of parenting. Provide

 your children with roots and then give them wings later so they can go on their own. I knew it by heart. I have preached and written about it. But apparently it was all in my mind -- my heart had not accepted what my intellect has been saying all along.

I have also memorized the line from Kahlil Gibran on children: “Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They come through you but not from you. And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you“.

But why is it still so hard to let go when the time comes?

Last Saturday, 07 February, as I stood there in the middle of the church with my wife Thelma, waiting for our daughter Dana as she approached us for our march together to the altar for her wedding date with Marco, images of the past came to me as Teyve’s wedding song from the Fiddler on the Roof played in my head.

“Is this the little girl I carried?” I then remember little Dana Marie in my arms, our third child after a girl and a boy. We named her after us. We had named our eldest girl after her grandmothers and our only boy after his grandfathers. Thelma and I planned her to be the third and the last of our growing family then, our bunso, after having a panganay and then an only boy. But it was not meant to be. After 7 years, a fourth child, another girl, came. But that is another story for later.

“When did she get to be a beauty? … Wasn’t it yesterday when they were small?” I don’t know. But I knew she was going to be a beauty. She had her mother Thelma’s fair and smooth complexion and her chinita features too that earned her the distinction of being one of the Vietnamese refugee children whenever the family visited me at my post at the Refugee camp in Bataan in the late eighties.

“Sunrise, sunset,…Swiftly flow the years.” Soon Dana was in Grade School at St. Theresa’s, the ever playful one who was not as interested in Academics as her Kuya Nico and Ate Pizza…her stint in High School at St. Claire’s was the usual carefree and enjoyable days of adolescents… College was different. At St. Benilde’s she met Marco and she must have been inspired since then… Then there was her short stint with Seattle’s Best Coffee and her odd hours of work leaving us awake waiting for her to come home…

As we marched towards the altar, towards her waiting future husband, I held her arm somewhat tightly, still hesitant to let her go like the first time I let go of her to take her first steps…

In my seat during the ceremonies, I realized the reason for it all – for my hesitancy to let go of a beloved child. It was not because I was losing her nor was it because I was going to miss her so much. No.

As the time approached for Dana to leave and get married, I started to panic. I took stock of what I feared I may not have given her that will be vital for her success in life. I asked whether I have raised her well. Did I build her self-confidence? Did I teach her how to make and keep fulfilling relationships? To cherish what it means to be committed for life? To understand the meaning of life; to give one’s self? Did I have enough time for her in the past? Express enough love? Time has run out and there's no more going back.

As a tear rolls down my cheek, I remembered my reflection sometime ago when I wrote about waiting for Dana’s wedding: “Today after reflecting on Luke 2:22, (the Presentation of the Child Jesus in the Temple), I can now look at the rite of giving Dana away in marriage as my presentation of her to the Lord as if saying: “Here she is now, dear God. I have done my part to prepare her for life. My mission is done. Take her with you as she begins to lead a new life with her spouse.”

Yes, with some heaviness of heart, I gave up Dana in marriage to Marco last Saturday. The thought, however, of giving her up to God as a present and knowing I have done my best to prepare her for married life makes the letting go much easier and even pleasant!