Scintilla day 3: an aisle, a canon, a song.

Today’s Scintilla prompt asks us to talk about a memory triggered by a particular song.

The moment I read that, my brain filled with flashes of music. Guns ‘n Roses, Poison, Whitney Houston, a million showtunes, some Barenaked Ladies, a tune by Bryan Adams (I am horrified to admit this, but it’s true), a whole lotta U2 – and then.

I was at the mall this morning, for my daily stop at Au Bon Pain for coffee (yes, I am still having my one stupid coffee a day on this 17 Day Diet – it is my only joy). And piped over the loudspeakers was a song that always makes me lift my chin, straighten my back, and walk slower.

Pachelbel’s Canon in D.

When I was planning my wedding, there was one thing I was absolutely sure of. Hell, I was absolutely sure of this years before I even met Greg: when I walked down the aisle, it would be to Canon in D. (Oh, and to have a cupcake wedding cake. Another must.)

It does things to my heart. It makes me feel happy. It lifts me. It’s peaceful. It’s wonderful. I am not a big fan of classical music – but I could listen to this over and over and over, and am now, as I’m writing this.

The priest who officiated at our wedding argued a bit with me about it. “Don’t you want something a little bit happier? A little bit more celebratory?” Nope, I told him. This was it. I may have gotten a little defensive to him. I can assure you it was the only time I’ve ever raised my voice to a priest.

Walking down the aisle was a little bit of a tough thing for me. My father had died a few years earlier. When he had walked both my sisters down the aisle, he had said something special to them that sent them both down the aisle in tears. I didn’t want to cry, because if I cried, it would be because of his absence, because I was sad, not because of something sentimental he said. I wanted it to be perfect.

I warned EVERYONE – do NOT say anything sad to me. Do not mention how much my dad would have loved to be there. Do not tell me that he is there, in spirit. Believe me, I am well aware that he is not here for this most traditional of moments between a father and a daughter. I KNOW. But please, please make this happy. I’m happy. Don’t bring me down, you know? (I said this, you know, in a nice way.)

My mom walked me down the aisle. And she told me way ahead of time that she knew exactly what she was going to say to me when we walked down the aisle. And I’m not going to share it with you because it’s private. But it made my face crack open with a giant smile. That, and Canon in D, is what I remember about one of the most special moments, during one of the most special days, of my life.