Our father died.
His little sister was getting married.
There was a job Dad was supposed to do.
Nathan asked if he could do it instead.
Everyone said yes.
So he practiced.
He counted every step.
He wore Dad’s cufflinks.
He held out his arm.
He walked beside me when I needed him.
And when we reached the altar, he reminded everyone in that church of something Dad had taught him years before:
A big brother takes care of his little sister.
Nathan believed that was his job.
And he did it perfectly.
Looking back, I think that is the only version of the story that truly matters.
