As mother-of-the-bride (MOB), I have many responsibilities.
I help and help and help and offer to help and wish I could help more and try not to get in the way and keep my opinions to myself and let one sneak out and tell people what to do and be quiet and speak louder and worry and drink coffee and send emails and texts and write checks and hug the bride and drink wine and add and calculate and pack and plan and shop and worry and answer questions and keep secrets and hope and think and welcome and wait and cry and try not to cry too much.
But I do NOT have to give her away. The walking down the aisle bit? There’s good reason the FOB (Father-of-the-bride) gets to do that. He’s taller. And he cries less.
I also do not have to make any speeches. Again, the crying thing? Snot and tears interfere with my ability to make words come out. But I’m a writer, so here is what I’d say if I could speak:
My dear daughter, I loved you before I knew you. You hold my heart. I’m astounded by the young woman I see, so capable and strong, confident and kind. I can tell that you have found your guy. He is lucky to have you. Love him well.
Future son-in-law, seatbelt on. This family welcomes you. We’ll hug you more than you want to be hugged. We’ll play baseball and any other games you design. We’ll laugh at you on water skis. We’ll want to know you more–but here is what I know so far: our daughter is lucky to have you. Advice from your almost-MIL: Love her well. Take care of her. Listen to her. Laugh at her. Hug her everyday.