Claire just wants to be the stylish mother-of-the-groom—but when she sees her daughter-in-law has her own ideas for the wedding, she takes a step back to focus on her own attire, only to have a dispute with Alice on the wedding day. Alice thinks Claire spoiled the wedding by stealing her dream dress, but Claire finds nothing wrong with her actions. Who’s wrong?
All I wanted to be was the mother of the groom. That is it. I just wanted to be the adoring mother who loved her son above all else—but this is the story of how my endeavor to make my son’s wedding ideal turned into a day we’d all rather forget.
All I wanted to be was the mother of the groom. That is it. I just wanted to be the adoring mother who loved her son above all else—but this is the story of how my endeavor to make my son’s wedding ideal turned into a day we’d all rather forget.
Mark introduced us to Alice, who was unlike anyone I imagined him to fall for. Mark, my son, is a lawyer at a top firm, a post he acquired immediately after graduating from Stanford.
“I’m going to be a lawyer, Mom,” he told me once, while he was still in high school and writing an essay about the career he wanted to pursue.
“I could easily see that,” I told him, making him breakfast as he worked away.
“It’s to help fight injustices. For children, specifically,” he said, drinking his orange juice.
Mark had lofty goals, and I knew he would always strive for the stars.
Alice, on the other hand, was vastly different from my son. Her entire personality was lighthearted and cheerful, whereas Mark was solemn and moody. Alice was a self-taught coder who worked from their comfortable apartment. Their worlds, politics, and interests did not match.
But they made it work, and they were a pleasant pair for the most part. However, as the saying goes, love is blind.
When Mark proposed to Alice, we were all invited to the scene to surprise her.
“Please, Mom,” Mark said on the phone. “Alice isn’t close to her family, so to see you and Dad there will be good for her. She’ll know that she’s welcomed and supported.”
“Of course, honey,” I told him, already envisioning their wedding in my head.
I swallowed my doubts and agreed to pay for the wedding. James and I had saved money for Mark’s studies, but he had always received bursaries that paid for everything.
“We can just use that money for the wedding, Claire,” my husband said over lunch the day after the proposal.
“It’s the best thing we could do for them,” I agreed. “This way they can save up to move out of that small apartment. I know Mark’s been talking about a house with a garden because he really wants a dog.”
When we told Mark and Alice, I expected the gesture to draw us closer. I didn’t have any daughters, so I figured this was my chance.
I could get to know Alice better—which would be beneficial for Mark to know that his wife and mother got along well. Instead, the wedding planning brought out our differences.
After several months of wedding planning, I met Alice at a coffee shop to talk over the specifics. However, we disagreed on every issue.
“I think roses are timeless,” I said, helping myself to a slice of cake.
“They are, but they’re also overdone in a sense,” Alice said, sipping her tea. “Mark and I want peonies.”
Our meeting went back and forth several times, and we were caught in a situation where we couldn’t agree on anything.
“Okay, how about this?” I asked her. “You go ahead with everything else, and just tell me what color your bridesmaids are wearing, so that there won’t be any clashes.”
“They won’t be wearing green,” she said. “I’m leaning toward pink.”
I paid the bill, and we split ways on the wedding plans.
But, one afternoon, Alice texted me.
Hi Claire, just picking out my wedding dress with the girls! I’m so excited! I wish you were here!
She attached images of her top five bridal gown options.
I knew Alice and I had different ideas about how the wedding should look, but I wanted to be involved with the important things. I wished she would have involved me in the wedding dress shopping.
“At least she’s sending you the top picks,” James said as he read the newspaper next to me.
“I know, but it’s not the same,” I said.
“Do they look good?” he asked. “Can I see them?”
We looked through the photographs of the potential dresses. There were adequate options, but none stood out.
Nothing that would meet the expectations of my prospective daughter-in-law.
The garment that Alice preferred and was the first choice for the real wedding gown was not what I expected.
I responded back, telling Alice that it wasn’t the best option. And I thought that my financial investment in the wedding would be taken into consideration. James and I had not given the kids a budget. They had everything at their disposal.
Why not consider the second one? It might be more flattering for you.
James chuckled beside me.
“You’re at the point of over-stepping,” he said.
Before I could say anything, my phone vibrated with a message from Alice.
Sorry, but I disagree. This is the dress I’m choosing.
That night, when James was plating our salmon for dinner, I vented my dissatisfaction to him.
“Alice is not even considering my opinion, and I’m paying for the dress!” I exclaimed.
James tried to mediate; he also messaged Mark to ensure that he understood how I felt.
“I think you should just leave the wedding planning to them now,” James said. “Put all your attention into yourself and what you’re going to wear.”
But it turned out that Mark was able to persuade Alice to wear the dress I wanted.
I had to concede that it was the least stressful option, and I hadn’t been able to look for my dress until then.
So that is what I did.
I visited to several boutiques before finding the perfect dress. It was emerald green, and I knew it would bring out my eyes.
“That’s beautiful,” James said when I tried the dress on for him.
I got a different feeling. I no longer felt like the mother-of-the-groom, who had been overlooked. Instead, I felt gorgeous in my own skin, and my self-esteem grew with every thinking of the outfit.
As the wedding week approached, James and I attempted to be as present as possible. We attended all of the events that Mark and Alice requested, including the rehearsal dinner, where we saluted them and drank champagne to celebrate the celebrations.
“All sorted, Mom?” Mark asked me. “Your dress and everything?”
I smiled at my son. Despite being in the middle of Alice and myself, he was constantly checking on me.
“Of course,” I said. “I’m ready to celebrate you and Alice.”
On the morning of the wedding, I put on my green dress and applied my makeup. It was everything I had envisioned for my son’s wedding: elegant and sophisticated.
When I arrived at the venue, the air was filled with murmuring. I disregarded them, assuming that everyone was so used to me wearing comfy attire that this was unusual for them.
I hurried directly to the bride’s dressing room, hoping to see Alice and complement her before she walked down the aisle.
Alice looked up as the door opened, her joyous smile giving way to one of absolute devastation. She looked me up and down before crying.
“Why did you do this to me, Claire?” she sobbed, her voice choked with emotion.
Confused, I entered the room and shut the door.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
“Your dress!” she exclaimed.
“What about it?” I asked, second-guessing everything.
“It’s my dream wedding dress, just in another color,” she said, nearly shouting.
I was taken aback.
“Alice, honestly,” I said. “I didn’t realize—they look so different in color.”
But Alice wouldn’t have any of it. She sat at the edge of the couch, her head in her hands.
“How could you?” she looked up and cried out. “You’ve made this day about you! Just because we didn’t take any of your suggestions!”
Mark, who had heard the commotion from his dressing room next door, rushed in.
“Mom? What’s going on here?” he asked me.
He looked from Alice to me for an explanation.
I tried to calm the waters by explaining everything calmly.
“I didn’t see the resemblance, Mark,” I said. “I truly just loved the dress, and I thought—”
Alice stood up and marched toward Mark.
“No!” she exclaimed. “You thought that you’d show me what I could’ve had, but in green. Isn’t that it?”
“Mom, please,” my son said. “Let’s just try to get through the day. Please, for me.”
I agreed and exited the changing room. I just wanted to locate James and sit quietly till the day ended.
I knew Alice and I were walking a fine line, but I didn’t expect her to yell at me like that.
Naturally, I was upset, but I didn’t want to ruin their day any more.
In retrospect, perhaps I should have been more open to Alice’s preferences. It was her day, after all, not mine to plan. The issue of whether I was wrong looms large over me.
Yes, in my efforts to establish my vision, I may have lost sight of what was actually important: Alice’s happiness and Mark’s peace on their wonderful day.
Was I wrong for what I did?
