Lately, there have been a lot of posts by bees dealing with the reality of planning their weddings without their fathers, like Miss Rucksack and Miss Bicycle. I can totally empathize with this because Mr. Waterfall’s parents divorced when he was 15, at which point his dad decided to he could stop being a father and dropped off the face of the earth. I, on the other hand, had a completely different experience.
Papi Waterfall will openly admit that he had wanted a boy first (macho much?) and was somewhat disappointed to be having a girl, but the moment I wrapped my tiny newborn hand around his finger, he fell in love with his baby girl. In fact, he was so content that a few years later when my mom wanted to have another baby, his reply was literally: “Nah, I’m good.”
All my life, I’ve been Daddy’s little girl. My dad taught me my multiplication tables, how to ride a bike (by literally pushing me down a hill), and how to play Monopoly. Whenever Papi W needed to install something or build something, it wasn’t Brother Groomsman right there beside him holding the power drill, it was me. I love both of my parents, but my dad and I always had a special bond, probably because we’re similar in so many ways. I have my dad to thank for my love of the Beatles, roller coasters, and travelling.
Waterfalls in Spain / Personal photo
Ten years ago, when Mr. Waterfall asked me out, I suggested he ask for Papi Waterfall’s blessing first, you know, hombre to hombre. He came over to the house, nervous as hell, and spent what seemed like forever locked in the study with my dad, which must have been terrifying because Papi Waterfall can be super intimidating. It was totally worth it, though, because it made my parents fall in love with Mr. Waterfall. Whenever he gets sad about his dad not being around, I reply with “That’s OK, you can borrow mine!”
While planning this wedding, my dad turned out to be an amazing, albeit unlikely, ally. I’m not sure how or when it happened, but my dad slowly became my go-to person for wedding stuff, and we ended up doing many of the things that brides typically do with their moms together. When we were trying to choose a photographer, my dad looked at every single link I sent him and replied with very insightful comments. When it came time to assemble our invitations, Papi Waterfall was right there beside Mr. Waterfall and me, carefully gluing on wax seals, proudly declaring that he was sure to pass my rigorous inspection. When I fell in love with a cake topper from Laduree, my dad surprised me by calling a family friend in Paris and having it shipped that same week. When it was two weeks before the wedding and a hundred Cubans had yet to RSVP, it was my dad who called each one to track down their response. When my brother was being super difficult about the groomsmen tuxes, my dad handled it. Suffice it to say that my dad was basically the best father of the bride of all time—anything I delegated to him got done quickly and efficiently. It was much later that I found out that it was actually my dad who planned most of my parents’ wedding back in the day!
Mami and Papi Waterfall’s wedding in 1983
Because of my special bond with my dad, we were both really looking forward to all the traditional “dad” wedding moments, like him walking me down the aisle and giving me away. One of my favorite moments of the day was actually dancing with my dad during our father-daughter dance, even though I sobbed through the whole thing. But I know that even though he gave me away that day, my dad will always be there to jump start my car or fix my computer whenever I need him.
Did anyone else have a helpful father of the bride?