To My Daughter On Her Wedding Day

An Open Letter
November 7, 2019

My dear daughter,

A Significant Day
For me, your inauguration into married life ranks up there with other transformative experiences such as marrying your mother, becoming a father, and even being born. I hope it is as significant for you, too, in a most positive way. I have an everlasting appreciation for the sacred institution of marriage. You know me; I do not place religious significance on things. It’s sacred to me, because I choose to honor it as such. Why? Simply because it has brought some of the greatest blessings of my life, one of which, my dear, is you.

I Love You
I haven’t been your buddy, I haven’t been your pal, but I have always been your friend. I have watched over you, yearned after you, and prayed for you. I will continue to do so, always. I love you forever. The lectures that you have endured from me were driven by my intense desire to see my children be good human beings. I hope that you will take the good things that I have endeavored to plant in your life and likewise spread similar seeds in the wake of your own life.

Love is active. It does not merely exist. As my love for you will last forever, so will my doing for you persist. I want you to know that if you need it, home is always there for you.

A Father’s Work
Just as my love goes on, I feel that my work is never done. It’s true that it takes a village to raise a child. Your mothers, your siblings, your teachers and mentors, your friends, and even your enemies have all played an important role in shaping the woman that you have become. I am grateful for their help. Through all of the experiences and the influences that have crept or burst into your life, I have been there watching like a hawk. I have sometimes intervened, but mostly I have tried to drop little crumbs of wisdom and advice here and there. It has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life to see you pick up some of them and incorporate them into your life.

In spite of the awareness that I have left my work unfinished, there comes a time when it best serves the child to place her in the care of another to add the flourishing touches that only a lover can do. Nevertheless, the final touches, the ultimate “you” is for you to determine. Many people will contribute, but you must decide who you become. You may also find that you never finish that work. Keep it up. The process should never end.

Memories: Those Things Of The Past
When I learned of your decision to marry, I cried a lot more than I thought I would. I’ve kept my tears hidden from you, but I tell you this so that you may know how I feel. I have cherished watching you grow from infant to toddler, from adolescent to annoying teenager, and finally into the amazing woman that you are. You have always been incredibly independent. Sometimes, I had wished that you would lean on me more, but that wasn’t your way and I didn’t want to stand between you and that bull that you were grabbing by the horns. People get injured that way.

Back in elementary school, when friends snubbed you, because, I guess, you weren’t cool enough, I believed that it was because of the values that we had somewhat imposed on you. It hurt so badly to watch you endure that, but I believed that it would make you stronger. I think it did. When I had a group of high school students come over for a class activity, students who were several years your elders, I watched you annihilate them at Mad-Gab. I was thrilled. You were and are such a smart, clever girl. I have also loved taking you to rock concerts. Some of those artists have left their own insights and wisdom with you and I’m grateful for that, too.

Hopes: Those Things Of The Future
Marriage is hard, but if it were easy, it wouldn’t produce the magnificent results that it does. Raising children is hard. Sometimes, just navigating the tempests of life can be overwhelming. I believe you’re tough enough to see it through. I recommend prayer. However, there will be times when you must bear the pain in silence because you won’t be able to frame it in thoughts even coherent enough to express to God. That’s okay. Bear it well, my dear, and you may find that you become like him, which is the greater reward, anyway. I am not saying that you must endure all things, but I am saying that sometimes the reward follows much tribulation. You will struggle to know when it’s worth it and when it’s not. I can’t tell you the answer. If I could, I wouldn’t. That’s for you decide, but I pray that you may obtain great wisdom, knowledge, and understanding to assist you in your journey.

I wish you great joy. We mustn’t leave that out. However, joy isn’t something that is going to come find you. You must find it, yet sometimes it eludes you. Keep searching anyway. Then you’ll discover it in some of the most unsuspected places. You’ll learn to take nothing for granted. You’ll learn to appreciate people and things in ways that you had never dreamt. Life will become much richer. When you learn to find your own joy, nothing can withhold it. Always keep a spark of hope alive. Remember, life is beautiful! Above all things, I wish you love, a love that will make your bones burn. Cleave to your husband. He’s a good man, and he’ll get better, too. Your love will strengthen him.

Farewell
It may seem that this letter has an air of “goodbye” to it. This is not goodbye to love, but rather an acknowledgement that you must necessarily go build a new life and a new love that is not here. Things will change, but I believe that they will change for the better. I will not be there to hug you and tell you to drive safely when you leave. I will not be there to push you into new experiences, perhaps even some that are unpleasant or scary. I will not be there on a daily basis to shoot darts of ideas into your brain. Nevertheless, I am proud of you for choosing this new life. If I may be so presumptuous, I would like to say that you honor the things that I have tried to teach you. Be good, okay?

With love forever, your dad,
Ariel Hammon