Short Stories. Photos and pictures. Poems even.

The Dress 1/2

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“The one, who holds the key, can unlock my heart”

The Bride knows what she wants. Brides always know, they have been planning their weddings for years. Since they were 12 years old. Romantic. Lacey. If it involves a groom, OK then. But he will enter  into the picture much later. “I will be the most beautiful Princess!”

My princess wanted lace. Nothing too contemporary nor silky. Lace! She started her search. First with her best friend. Then a little bit on her own. She found THE dress. The fifth one she had tried on.

“Mommy, you have to come a see it! It’s beautiful!” We drove hour and half  where she lived. Went to the shop. The dress was cute, lace shoulders, puffed skirt. I looked at it, the front and the back. The top part was really appealing and suited her well. Short of like Audrey Hepburn era. The bottom appeared to be too plain, to my liking. Too simple for people to watch, when she’ll walk down the aisle, I said.  I did not break into tears of joy, like mothers do in the romance novels.  I thought she should look further. It did not make her look special or unique. Just a pretty dress.

“Why did you have to come, if you don’t like anything? Why do you always have to crush my dreams?” I had no answer.  An akward moment. I don’t know why I am like this, a bad mother.  She did not speak to me for hours. Just like when she was 15. “I will be a  thousand times  better mother than you!” And suddenly my green eyes were snake eyes. Ugly! A bad mother.

I cried for that day and I cried for the memory of those teenage years.  They were not tears of joy that day.

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