Last weekend I lay on my mom’s couch scanning through the guide on TV. Nothing seemed interesting until an old favorite caught my eye: Father of the Bride. I love this movie. I watch it every time it’s on, no matter what part I come in on. I’ve loved this movie since my 9th birthday party when along with my mom and a handful of friends, I stared up at the big screen and thought, someday.

The movie is like a grilled cheese sandwich. If I had it every day, it would lose its magic. But a dose of it every now and then brings comfort and happiness. And this movie, no matter how many times I see it, always makes me emotional.

ThereΒ is one scene that gets me every time.Β When the daughter, Annie, is walking down the aisle to her future husband. The scene has always brought a tear to my eye, but now, now that come this October that scene will come to life for me, I can’t keep it together.

My mom turned around just in time to see my wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “What is it?” she asked.

I sniffed and smiled. “I just love him so much!” I cried.

And I do. My god, I love him so much.

Last night we were up past one. We laughed about our first moments together. How nervous we had been. How completely smitten we were with each other. We talked about how with year six approaching, it’s just gotten better and better. And with many years ahead, we’re going to do just fine.

Sometimes within the craziness of wedding planning, it’s easy to forget what’s at the center of it. It’s not just a wedding, it’s a marriage. A marriage that will ultimately have it’s hard times, disagreements and potholes. But a marriage that I know will stand the test of time.

I looked at him, at the face I see in my dreams and kissed him to distract my eyes from tearing.

“Molly,” he said last night. “Mrs. Molly Michael.”

The future Mrs. Michael.

I cannot wait.

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