It seems the summer months are always filled with celebrations. Birthdays, Bar and Bat Mitzvahs, Graduations, Anniversaries, Weddings, Mother's Day and Father's Day!

            I recently celebrated my 28th wedding anniversary. My wedding took place at my friend's Encino Estate, an exact replica of The Beverly Hills Hotel in all it's pink and green splendor. 

            The sun was going down. The main floor bedrooms were filled with the bridal party. One of my maids of honor was pinning baby's breath into my up-do of soft curls while a videographer asked me trivial questions and I nervously bit my lipstick off.  The string quartet was greeting the guests with Canon in D. Rows of white wooden chairs were filling up with friends and family, while lilies and candles floated in the kidney-shaped pool. This was my dream wedding, like a scene out of a movie.

             "It's time darling." My friend Sue said, in her English school-girl best. I took a deep breath and let out a silent scream of excitement. I was shaking, pacing and humming, I always hum when I'm nervous. 

            My husband to be, Paul and I had decided to walk down the aisle by ourselves. After all, we were 30 somethings. So I watched as family members and the bridal party walked down the aisle and took their places and now it was my turn. I walked to the paned glass doorframe that led to the yard, overflowing with friends and family and stopped dead in my tracks. Something didn't feel right. This wasn't a dress rehearsal. There were no re-dos.

            I waved to one of my bridesmaids and mouthed, "Come here.

            Please, hurry, go get my dad." 

            Our teary eyes met and we were grinning from ear to ear. He took my hand and we walked down the aisle to thunderous applause.