My sisters and mother, who simply reside close by, were invited to dinner for my 40th birthday. I’d seen folks go out as a group of aunts, for example, but I wanted something unique and different.
Leading up to my day, I asked my mother if she still had all our in the house.
“Yep, you want to consider yours?” she asked. “They’re all still hanging up there.”
I declined to tell her, but I would like everyone to use them to remember my day.
There was no sorrow in no fitting in.
The majority of my daughters were excited about the idea. A couple of us knew we wouldn’t fit into our dresses, but we planned to use safety pins on either side of the zip, with ribbon crisscrossing, as a makeshift corset — there was no shame about the fact we couldn’t fit into our dresses. I told my mother that she could really wear her favorite.
All but one of my daughters and daughter drove their minivans to my house on the night of the appointed date, cramming their wedding dresses into the driver’s seat.
One of my daughters had stopped off at to create roses, and we sat at the dining room table, assembling them before breakfast. Alexa and I both blared like music while laughing about our coming ploy.
Before it got darker, we started the 10- second wander from my home in Midtown Tulsa, a traditional community, into the buzzing center of town. Walking along the road was a bit agonizing, but it was really enjoyable.
Folks stopped to take our pictures
Every vehicle that passed us slowed down to make a storm or yell. A number of people offered to take photographs of us. I had anticipated at least some bad comments from people who thought we looked terrible, but there was nothing like that. It made all teeth.
While we walked, our carriages dropped and buckles loosened, so it took a bit longer than normal to get into community. We adored how intentionally related our outfits were.
Moving into the recently opened, full- to- the- full cafe, everyone dining stopped and turned to observe as we paraded in. The spot went passive.
When we arrived at the dining tables, we talked about all our marriage thoughts. It was a moment that we were able to recall from each bride. We chuckled and cried, reflecting on how important each was.
Although our marriages and this “wedding dress meal” were particularly remarkable days together, my mother, sisters, and I make memories every year.
I’m near to my home
Every Tuesday, we have a regular chat. It’s a non- transferable for all of us. We may discuss our current state while floating in a pool or simply chatting about our progress. We talk about all the hard stuff we’re going over. Sometimes, we don’t agree with each other, but because we value each other, we listen to and respect one another. We don’t sweep up issues because they will rot and grow into more if not addressed.
We focus on our interactions with one another, and it has paid off constantly over the years.
This tightly knit relationship started when we were young. Daughters last forever, as my mother often said, but friends always come and go. She instilled a devotion to home in her women, and it has lasted into age.
My daughter found it particularly lovely to dress up in our wedding dresses and remember our best days together. She had paid for the most costly pieces of clothing we’d actually use, and then she can look at them once more while reflecting on the days we’ve spent wearing them with us.
The whole evening was one we’d love to do afterwards.