From my initial diagnosis in January 2015 to the day of Stacey and Adam’s October 24, 2015 wedding, I was exceptionally obsessed with being at my best. It was the dream for the whole family. We had a long time to have a wedding.
[NOTE: That does not mean that I ever viewed this single event as the end of my personal journey. But getting there was a big objective for me. As I said before, my overarching goal is to live as long as I can as well as I can. Thus, in a way, the wedding represented a beginning stage in my new life.]
Despite some anxiety at first on my part, I was quite convinced that I would be at the wedding. And I wanted to be able to walk Stacey down the aisle, dance with her, and give a toast to Stacey and Adam. In my mind, there was no doubt I would get through everything I needed to accomplish to be at the wedding. “No, I would not be able to be there” was never an option for me. Never.
Fortunately, most of the important wedding decisions had been made before my diagnosis and surgery. As the father of the bride, I really wanted to play a role in these decisions. And I could! We had selected the date, the venue and caterer, the clergy, the photographer, the flower arranger, etc. Stacey and Adam picked out the band; it was great. Stacey’s dress selection was an all-female production—men not really wanted. LOL. The dress was gorgeous.
Beginning with the date of my surgery until the wedding itself, my primary responsibility was to get as healthy as possible. My major role with regard to the family was to appear to be happy while I was struggling physically.
Their psychological stress far exceeded my own. Whereas, I knew that I was going to be at the wedding, they weren’t nearly as sure. In fact, they often felt that I was engaged in wishful thinking. I tried to persuade them otherwise.
My secondary role was trying to get everyone else to be more upbeat. It took a while for me to grasp that the ill person (in this case, me) may have fewer doubts and higher aspirations than the well people who could only worry about what could be possible for me. And that must have been exacerbated by seeing see me so thin and weak, and having some adverse reactions to my chemotherapy treatments. I get it now, since I’m back to a more normal life worrying about my loved ones.
Here are a couple of quotes about anxiety and worry among caregivers:
We all live with a certain amount of anxiety, much of which is caused by fear of the unknown.
Since health issues can change without warning, caregivers, as well as the people they care for, often live with higher than normal levels of anxiety—and that anxiety can be contagious. The person being cared for picks up on the anxiety of the caregiver. His or her anxiety may stem from not knowing what is causing the person caring for them to be stressed, so they blame themselves. Or they may just absorb the feeling of general anxiety that radiates from the caregiver. [Carol Bradley Bursack on AgingCare.com] 17
Anxiety is what we experience when the worries are so numerous and intense that we can no longer think clearly. Our minds become fixated on worst-case scenarios and overwhelmed by feelings of fear and helplessness, even when real danger has passed. We have difficulty making decisions or interacting with our loved ones calmly. Our bodies, too, may suffer symptoms, such as palpitations, tremors, and tense muscles. Anxious caregivers, for all their good intentions, are often hobbled by their fears. But fear can be reduced to normal, manageable worries if we are willing to approach our anxiety as a treatable condition. [Barry J. Jacobs on AARP.org] 18
A few tasks remained for me to be a proper wedding participant. The larger task involved compiling and winnowing Linda and my choices of whom to invite to the wedding.
Stacey and Adam prepared their list, and Adam’s parents prepared theirs. The final list was larger than expected. But, you only live once; and this was a monumental event for us. So, 
The easier task was to choose the menus for the cocktail hour and the dinner. There were really a lot of choices for us. Yet, selecting the food and drink selections turned out to be quite easy. We were all in such general agreement. Yea.
Another activity that I had to undertake, a few weeks before the wedding date, was to go for a fitting of the tuxedo and accessories that Adam had designated. Normally, the fitting for a tuxedo rental is no big deal. In and out, get a tux in your regular size.
However, in this instance, the tuxedo fitting was not a pleasurable event for me. Why? Since the wedding was taking place only eight weeks after I finished chemo, I remained looking emaciated. I was not pleased seeing myself in the full-length mirror. And I wondered how others would viewmy appearance. Turns out, there was nothing to worry about except how I saw myself. More on this shortly.
We picked a very nice boutique hotel near the wedding venue for family and out-of-town guests to stay during the wedding weekend. Because the wedding was on a Saturday night, Linda and I decided to book ourselves into the hotel for Friday and Saturday nights. I got to nap on Saturday—a necessary activity for me! Stacey and Adam occupied a bridal suite, which was beautiful and enormous.
On Friday night, we hosted a dinner for family and out- of-town guests. This was the first time since my cancer diagnosis that I saw some of them. We were still 24 hours until the wedding and I was very emotional already.
Everyone told me how well I looked. I realize that they meant it. But, a part of my brain said they thought I looked well because they were expecting me to look worse. A mind—mine, anyway—is a terrible thing to waste.
Saturday turned out to be a 10+ on a scale of 1 to 10. Everything went super terrific. However, it was also an extremely l-o-n-g day for me. There were lots of things to do and a very late evening to handle. But, I was prepared.
The three most important women of my life—LOML Linda and daughters Jennifer and Stacey—were made up, had their hair styled, and looked gorgeous. My job was simpler: shower, shave, get dressed, and brush my hair (and teeth). The women took hours to get ready; I took under thirty minutes. Mars versus Venus, right?
We left early to get to the venue—to make sure everything was set, for Stacey to put on her wedding dress, and to have the happy couple and witnesses sign documents. It was a beautiful fall day and night.
There was a hotel shuttle that took us and our guests to and from the wedding. This was partly for everyone’s convenience and partly to enable the consumption of alcohol without people having to drive afterwards. We wanted to be as safe as possible.
The cocktail hour featured finger food and various beverages. Linda and I may have had one hot dog between us as we flitted around among our guests during this hour. [I don’t really know how to flit.
However, it is a fun word.]
When I saw our guests, my emotions opened up again. And not for the last time that night. There were family and friends from near and far -- from near (Long Island, NY), far (California and Colorado), and a lot farther (Manchester, UK). As well as young (4 years old) to less young (80+ years old). There were those we saw all the time and those we had not seen in a while. My heart overflowed with joy. All I could say was wow!
Now, we were up to the main event. The room set up as a chapel, complete with a bima and a chupah [a pretty canopy under which a Jewish couple stands during their wedding ceremony], was fantastic.
The bridal party included various relatives and Adam’s niece and nephew as flower children. Adam was escorted down the aisle by mom Leslie and dad Joel (yes, we have two Joels now). Stacey was escorted by Linda and me. My heart was popping out of my chest until Adam came for Stacey. I was so excited. The service was co-officiated by Adam’s family rabbi and our family cantor, who is our long-time friend and confidant (Cantah H).
My only concession during the wedding service was that I did not have the stamina to stand on the bima the whole time. Someone gave me a chair on which to sit down. Most importantly, I had made the first part of my three-pronged goal—to walk my daughter down the aisle. So, I was good.
Next up was dinner. As occurred when we walked down the aisle, there was not a dry eye in the dining area as Linda and I entered the room. And now I was able to chat more with our family and friends.
My only other concession that night was that I had to lie down for about a half hour during the lengthy dinner (many courses). This was due to my back bothering me, not due to my cancer recovery. I thought that was kind of ironic. After the half hour, I felt re-invigorated and ready to go full tilt. And I did.
Before we got to the dessert portion of the dinner, I accomplished the other parts of my goal. I danced with Stacey. And I offered a toast. During the father-daughter dance, Stacey and I kept looking at each other. I think our recollections differ a bit. My recollection: Stacey said, if you start crying, I’ll start crying too. Then she started crying, which led to me crying. Her recollection:
Stacey said, if you start crying, I’ll start crying too. Then I started crying, which led to her crying. Either way, it was a beautiful moment.
The song I picked for the father-daughter dance was a big favorite of mine: “My Little Girl” by Tim McGraw, sung live by the wedding band. Here are some of the words that make that song so special to me. Thanks Tim McGraw and Tom Douglas for such heart-warming lyrics [I’m tearing up now.]:
Gotta hold on easy as I let you go.
Going to tell you how much I love you.
Though you think you already know,
I remember I thought you looked like an angel.
Wrapped in pink, so soft and warm.
You've had me wrapped around your