As I go through the whole process, I cannot help but feel the pain of that open wound caused by mother’s passing. I always thought that as I got older this pain would fade. It has not. I am constantly reminded of the woman even if I can no longer summon up her face. My thoughts of her are of fleeting events and always I remember how I felt. The event I remember clearly is the day of her death. My father was out of the country, my brother and I were in school holidays so were staying at an aunt’s house; we would visit my mum in hospital every day but that day, I didn’t want to go. It wasn’t even a good excuse, I wanted to play some more. Then she died. I wasn’t there. I missed out on holding her hand. She died alone…without her children. With a sister-in-law present, none of her blood. Even though I was only eight I knew what I had done. Now that I am getting married, I want my mother. I am alone. I want my mother. I want to go dress shopping with her, I do not how to do that, who can I ask to help me but her? More importantly would she have liked my choice of man, is Lenny the man she would have hoped for me? There is nothing I wouldn’t give for one more moment, that one moment that I gave up in selfishness….I want it back. It haunts me. Please can I have it back?
Today I tried to search for a dress. Online.
First off, no site I’ve visited delivers to Seychelles.
Second, the sites are bullying me. I have spent 33 blissful years labeling myself as thin and leaving it at that. Now they want me to measure myself and find out exactly how unfeminine I am? Nooooooo.
Third,Save me!!!!! So many pretty dresses……And no clue what is going to work for me!
Fourth….I am NOT wearing white and grey is apparently harder to find.
Fifth, why are most designer sites not putting up the prices? They want me to fall in love with a dress then have to sell myself for money to pay for it? No no no. I do not do that, even if I love your dress, there will be no bankrupting myself.
That is it! I need the services of a professional here. Let me go source for the best designer in Seychelles then cough up for a session where this person advises me on what to wear……I do not think Lenny wants to marry me in my shorts.
Fellow lunatics of the universe,
I have decided to start writing down my escapades as I journey on to my wedding so that:
1. One day my child reads it and realizes that mommy was human.
2. I avoid bashing my brains in because this wedding has driven me insane.
For example, imagine my surprise to find out that if I want to be married in a Catholic Church here in Seychelles, my ass has to go to class. Imagine the irony of me, the teacher, being a student again.
CPM is in essence a series of classes that ready the couple for married life. As much as I understand the necessity for such classes, it is not going to be easy to give up time every weekend for months. First of all, WHAT am I going to cancel? Plus, we are not ready to share with strangers. I do not know if the thought fills me with dread or purpose.
Luckily, Lenny and I are thinking of a date sometime in May! We have time for trial and error.
Thank God!!! ( pun intended)
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