Our wedding was about to begin. My throat was tight and my cheeks got red, but I didn't care. I was ready to marry David Sanchez. We're a “nontraditional” couple: getting married in a bookstore that supports a charity to fight HIV and homelessness.

“Kim! I could walk you down the aisle (走道) if you like！” David's father offered gently.

“I'm OK. But I appreciate that，” I said with a smile. And I was reminded, again, of my dad's absence.

My father died of cancer six weeks ago. For the last two months, we tried to make him feel comfortable and loved as he departed from this world. He always told us that he didn't like a funeral (葬礼) and insisted that our wedding go forward as planned. But how could we honor him since the wedding would be the first time the family would gather after his death and some even didn't know he was sick?

During the ceremony, my dear friend Eva delivered a reading entitled “When Things Go Missing” by Kathryn Schulz. She paused and got everyone on the same page, “When we are experiencing it, loss often feels like confusion in the usual order of things. In fact, the entire plan of the universe consists of losing, and life amounts to a reverse (逆向的) savings account in which we are eventually robbed of everything.”

I felt the energy full of the room. Everyone was listening. By choosing to accept the pain, we knew what a wedding does to join two families and mark the next chapter for a couple. Loss became a compass that kept us away from a fantasy and toward celebrating the difficult realities of life.

After rings were exchanged, fried chicken was served, our friends offered so many funny and touching toasts, and finally David sang “Married” on my father's guitar. I felt joy filling all the holes in my soul. Celebrating my father's life at our wedding made me grateful for all the time I had spent with him.

Rama was the only breadwinner in the family. Living along with his father and mum, he had three children, two sons and a daughter. He worked over 16 hours a day.

The kids were too curious about Sunday because their father was with them all day. Unfortunately, Rama worked on weekends even on Sundays to meet increasing household and education expenditures(开支). The children were very sad, even Rama’s wife and parents!

Typical routines(日常工作) lasted weeks and years. Rama got a lot of benefits from all his efforts, and he got an attractive raise. The family moved to their new home, put on better clothes and ate healthy food. However, as usual, Rama continued to earn more money. Once, his wife asked him, “What are you asking for... so hard work? We can be happy now.” Rama answered, “I want to give you all the best things in the world.”

Two years later, Rama hardly stayed with his family. The children longed for their dad to be at home. At the same time, Rama’s sincere efforts earned him a fortune. He was offered partnership and profit-sharing. Then Rama’s family had all the facilities and luxury(奢侈的) goods. Nevertheless, Rama’s children tried to meet their father because he seldom showed up at home.

Rama’s family went to their beachfront villa(别墅) for a holiday. His daughter asked, “Dad, would you stay at home for a day and stay with us?” Rama replied, “Yes, honey, I will have lunch with you tomorrow and will be with you for the next few days. I’m tired of working and need refreshments!” The whole family was very happy.

However, the next day, Rama’s family were washed away in the tsunami(海啸)! When he tried to reach his beach villa, he saw the sea and water everywhere and screamed for his family. Fortunately his daughter was saved by the local people. Rama found a new job and spent all the spare time with his daughter.

I remember that every Saturday night Mama would sit down by the kitchen table and count out the money Papa had brought home in the little envelope.

“For the rent.” Mama would say, counting out the big silver pieces.

“For the groceries.” Another pile of coins.

“Teacher says this week I'll need a notebook.” That would be my sister Christine, my brother Nels or me. Mama would put one or two coins to the side.

We would watch with anxious interest. At last, Papa would ask,” Is that all?” When Mama nodded, we could relax a little. Mama would look up and smile,” Good. We do not have to go to the Bank downtown.” We were all so proud of Mama's Bank Account. It gave us such a warm, secure feeling. No one else we knew had money in a big bank downtown.

I remember when the Jensens down the street were put out because they couldn't pay their rent. We children watched the big strange men carry out the furniture, ignoring the tears of Mrs. Jensens. “Might this, could this, happen to us?”

“We have a Bank Account.” Mama comforted me calmly, and suddenly I could breathe again.

Whatever happened, we always knew we still had the Bank to depend upon.

That was twenty years ago. Last year I sold my first story. When the check came, I hurried over to Mama's and put it in her lap.” For you, I said,” to put in your Bank Account.” I noticed for the first time how old Mama and Papa looked. Papa seemed shorter, and Mama's hair was silver now.

Mama fingered the check and looked at Papa.” Good,” she said, and her eyes were proud.

“Tomorrow,” I told Mama, “you must take it to the Bank.”

“You will go with me, Katrin? But...”Mama stopped for a moment and looked at me.

“There is no account,” she continued. “In all my life, I've never been inside a bank.”

And when I didn't-couldn't-answer, Mama said seriously. “It is not good for little ones to be afraid-to not feel secure.”