Monday, September 8, 2025 – Day 391

Good morning everyone.

It’s finally here—wedding week for Alex and Nicole. Saturday is the day I’ve been counting down to, and I’m sure they’ve been doing the same. It wasn’t that long ago that it seemed this day would never arrive and now we’re at T-minus five days. I can feel the excitement building and a little nervousness as well.

My legs have carried me to this point, though they’re not quite the dance partners I’d hoped they’d be. The cane won’t cut it, so it’ll be a mix of walker and wheelchair. The big fear, of course, is falling at the wedding…the attention isn’t supposed to be on me. I’ll need to pick my steps wisely and accept all those stretched out hands wanting to assist me.

There will be other challenges, too. A room full of family, friends that I want to talk with. I know it’s more conversations than I can manage with my words weaker now than just a few months ago. Some words slip out clear, others get lost before they reach anyone’s ears. Then that puzzled look and the question, ”what did you say?” That weighs on me. I don’t want to fade into the background, but I know I’ll have to save my energy and let Cindy carry the rest. She’s done it beautifully up to now, and I’m grateful she’ll be by my side.

And then there’s the toast. Father of the groom. I’ve got two versions in my pocket: one I’d love to deliver, and one shorter, in case my voice won’t cooperate. It’s a pressure I never expected to feel, but one I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Here’s the gift in all this: I’m still in a better place physically than I ever thought I’d be a year after my diagnosis. I can walk. I can talk. Most importantly, I can smile. And this week I’ll be smiling plenty. I’ll hold my head high, let the tears come as they may, and watch with pride as Alex and Nicole exchange their vows.

So now it’s down to finishing the last details and packing for Maine. Saturday will come fast, and when it does, my heart will be full.

Have a great Monday.

Love you guys!❤️