He looks at you. His face weary, yet the proud glint in his eyes remains. A hint of melancholy linger within his gaze. A good type of sadness.

He looks at you, but for a moment, he doesn't see the beautiful white dress and the veil. No.

He sees your first steps, wobbly but determined, always so determined. He hears your laughter, a sweet melody that has filled his life with joy and happiness. He remembers the scraped knees, the bedtime stories, the whispered secrets and shared dreams.

He sees the little girl he'd raised and protected his whole life. The little girl, now a woman, he's going to walk into the next chapter of her life.

John struggles to hold back his emotions as he stands by your side, but the sudden dryness in his throat and the glimmer in his eyes give him away. You're both standing near the church, the organist playing the final notes before your grand entrance.

"You ready?" he asks, offering his arm for you to take.

He's not. He's so not prepared for this moment. But he'll be there for you, every step of the way, just like he's been your entire life.

And he knows, for a fact, that you'll be in good hands. He knows.