A year ago today, my son and his fiancé made it official.

In a small, backyard ceremony, surrounded by family and friends, they said “I Do” and took a leap of faith.

After all of the sadness the two years prior had dealt our family, and having no clue what the year ahead would bring, this wedding was special in more ways than one.

It was a chance to see each other through happy tears.

To celebrate instead of mourn.

To congratulate instead of console.

To give hugs that felt solid and sure instead of shaky and tentative.

To look ahead with hope and not back with regret.

My favorite photo from that magical day, is a candid snapshot (as most favorite photos are.)

A chance moment in time, captured for eternity.

The moment when the bride’s feet are both off of the ground, a blur and a flutter, as she crosses the threshold between bride and wife.

And there is nothing solid beneath her, just air, as she reaches for the boy that I raised to steady her, and I feel his little hand grow too big for me alone to hold, and although there is no “giving away” of the groom I feel him shift and drift and although he is there, he is gone.

Transformed into a man, stepping over the brink first.

And as my heart breaks, it grows, and as it subtracts, it adds.

Sure footed and solid, he does not leap, but walks confidently into the setting sun and into the rest of his life.

And I could not be more proud.