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Searching for a song fitting for the father-daughter dance at my wedding has made me ponder my relationship with my father quite a bit over the last several weeks. I’ve come to realize how much of our bond is unspoken and difficult to describe. In many ways, it is stunted and as it was when I was twelve and our family was going through some rough times. The lines of communication are more difficult than they are with my mother, who is, in many ways, a real friend.

This post is a little late, but I’ve been trying to decide the best angle to approach it from, what specific facet of this major event I wanted to discuss. I’m still not sure, to be entirely honest. But let’s lay it all on the table now before I ramble myself into a hole: I’m engaged. Last weekend Randy and I went up to Bellingham to check out some potential wedding venues. Saturday, between two venues and while looking for crabs at a waterfront park, Randy hid the ring beneath one, and after flipping it over on the pretense of looking for crabs, seeing two and asking, “Why did you have me flip this rock over,” then looking once more to see the ring as he moved to his knee, I found my jaw agape.