Our G-d-daughters are getting married next weekend.  I am officiating.

I am scared.  I am used to public speaking, even extemporaneous remarks that elicit the appropriate chuckles and kudos at the end.

This is different.  They are my G-d-daughters not because their parents asked that POB (partner of blogger) and I watch over them, but because they chose us and we chose them.  That they chose us is a Divine gift (apologies to the one of them who is Atheist).

There was a time, as with all children, when one of them depended on us as a financial cushion.  That is what keeps parents secure that children, in their quasi-emancipation, will keep coming to dinner.  The test of a relationship is when they don’t “need” you anymore and come over for dinner anyway.  And they came, and continue to come, for Friday night dinner every other week.  It is a tradition that POB, SOS (our son, source of sanity) and I treasure.

And they are a gift.  And they remind us that love makes a family — nothing more and nothing less.  And POB and I do love them so dearly.  And we wouldn’t think twice about giving up a kidney or two (but not necessarily two from the same person).

And we are so honored that we are a part of their wedding.  We get all teary-eyed when we think about it.

And I want to help make their special day wonderful.  And I am scared that I am too ego-centric and that I won’t meet their expectations.  And failing your children is like dying a slow death by 1000 butter knife cuts.

I have been thinking and dreaming about what I will say for months.  I know that if it goes right, no one will remember; they will focus on the girls.  And that will be a success.

Love means reining in your ego for so your children can shine.  I hope I live up to my love for them.