I'm not sure if I will cry but I'll have a lovely hand-made handkerchief in my hand today, as my daughter walks down the aisle to marry the guy she has dated for seven years. I carried my grandmother's lace handkerchief tucked away when I was married 28 years ago as my "something old". I didn't cry then at my own wedding. In fact, I gave a little cry of joy when I was pronounced a we. Finally, after four years.
Now? I don't know. Sappy, weepy, ever-romantic, emotional me. With a lovely, quite lovely, hankie in my hand.