My mom, especially, loved being in control of everything – from my birthday parties to my graduation dinners.
Sometimes, it felt like she was the one turning a year older or getting a diploma. But my wedding day was different.
This was one day I wanted to be completely mine, without my mom’s interference. Of course, that didn’t last long.
It started with her insisting I wear her veil – the same one she wore when she married my dad.
To be honest, I didn’t mind that. The veil was a family tradition, beautiful and intricately detailed, and it had been tailored and improved with each generation. I was happy to wear it on my special day.
As the wedding preparations went on, though, my mom tried to control every little decision.
A few days before the wedding, I sent her a picture of a memorial table I had set up for my late cousin and dad. My cousin was like the older brother I never had, and my dad treated him like a son.
We were incredibly close, and losing them both was devastating. I loved the idea of having a table to honor them because it broke my heart that they couldn’t be there.
When my mom saw the picture, she freaked out.
She was upset that she wasn’t included in that one thing. She insisted that I put a portrait of her on the table too. “That’s literally a table for the fallen.
It’s a military tradition,” I tried to explain.
“It’s to commemorate those who have passed away and can’t be at my wedding.”
“You should be proud of me too!” she snapped back. “It’s disrespectful and selfish of you to exclude me.
If you don’t put my portrait there, I won’t attend your wedding.”
Her words stung. I couldn’t believe she was making this all about her.
That’s when I decided to show her what selfishness really looked like.
After our heated back-and-forth, I decided to set up another memorial table just for her. I printed out a framed photo of my mom, just as she demanded. Next to it, I added another picture – a screenshot of our text conversation where she insisted on having her portrait displayed and threatened not to come if I didn’t comply.
Instead of the “I Wish You Were Here” sign that I had on the real memorial table, I wrote “You Wished to Be Here.”
