Weddingbee Blog

This post stands out in my mind for many reasons. For the most part, when I blog it’s day-to-day, post-to-post, and I just write them as they come. But this post was one I had intended to write from the day I started blogging about our wedding. Then, as the wedding drew close, I was tempted to write it after the wedding as a part of a recap.

I’m so, so wonderfully glad I didn’t wait. I published it two days before our wedding, and it meant the world to my dad. Our father-daughter dance was already going to be a special moment at our wedding, but putting to words why “Time After Time” had such meaning for us made it all the more meaningful. In fact, there is an additional story that came of the post, but you’ll have to read about it in our wedding recaps!

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I have a lot of amazingly vivid memories from my childhood. One especially distinct time that stands out were Saturday and Sunday mornings I spent with my Dad. He would take me out in his red convertible (he still has it) with the top down, and we’d drive down Blackstone Boulevard in Providence. Before leaving the house Mama Seashell would wrap me in a scarf and stick a hat on my head. I was prone to ear infections, and she didn’t want to take any chances. As we’d pull out of the driveway I’d ask Papa Seashell if I could take the hat and scarf off—he’d roll his eyes and mutter something about “your mother” and then throw my hat and scarf in the back seat. I’d giggle. I thought we were so rebellious.

Then we’d go to McDonalds at University Heights. I’d get hotcakes with syrup. I’d eat neatly, but somehow the syrup left my hands sticky. I can still hear the sound of Papa Seashell cutting my hotcakes as the plastic knife squeaked against the S`tyrofoam. It was the sound of an incoming sugar high.

Next, we hit the road. Sometimes we’d go to my Dad’s office. I’d doodle on the dry erase boards. Or we’d go to one of his favorite hobby shops. Our errands often included a trip to a toy store, but more than anything I remember driving. The car, the wind, and the music.

Papa Seashell loves music. There was always music playing when we went out. During our trips there was one song that became “our song”. It stands so strong in my memories that every time I hear it I am again four years old, sitting next to my Dad, wind in my hair, driving down Blackstone Boulevard in Providence.

When I left for college in the fall of 2000, I received this package in the mail a few weeks after I arrived on campus.

A CD with a simple note—saying he missed me, he was proud of me, and how this song always made him think of me—and the lyrics to Time After Time. The memory of the song and our drives was just as strong for Papa Seashell it was for me. It melted my heart. I’ve saved the package for 10 years.

There was never a question about the song Papa Seashell and I would dance to at my wedding. We have had “our song” since I was a little girl. It make me hopelessly nostalgic and the memory brings tears to my eyes. The vision of dancing with my Dad on my wedding day, well, it overwhelms me. It will be another moment I carry with me forever. Time after time.

As I packed up the CD and note after taking a photograph, I caught a glimpse of the postmark. He sent this to me exactly ten years before my wedding. That is some incredible serendipity.

Will a vivid childhood memory be a part of your wedding day?