A Short Story : A Mother's Wedding Story

Good morning. We gather here to celebrate and honor Mary. Not only is she our Queen, but our mother. She loves each and every one of us. Mary shows us what a mother should be like, and how we should treat others. She was caring, faithful, humble, and brave. Mary is an inspirational role model to all of us.

“Good. I’m sending you an email. Look it over and email me any questions. Congratulations again, William. I’m proud of you.”

Distinguished guests, those of dubious distinction and those of no distinction, family, relatives, in-laws and outlaws, young and old, friends, friends of friends, freeloaders and hangers-on – let me extend a warm welcome to Meradith and Naren’s wedding reception celebration.

I remember it well as if it was yesterday, what a beautiful day it was. The day my wedding took place was in the city of Bakersfield, California June 7th 2014. I was very nervous and exited all at the same time. when I finally got to the church all I was able to see was the great amount of people that had come from miles to attend the wedding. Of course my main concern was my husband, were was he and was he waiting patiently for his bride. I was very curious about what was happening in the church, as one of the photographers was taking pictures of my entrance I decided to ask about my husband and if she had seen him. "Oh yea" she replied, "he's been waiting for you in front of the alter ever since the doors of this church opened". When i heard

Ladies and gentlemen, it is my very pleasant duty to welcome you here this evening to this special occasion of celebrating this marriage. I'm sure that you will all agree on how radiant and gorgeous the bride is. However the groom is not too bad himself.

A cool spring morning in Chicago a little boy was born the fourth son to a woman, Jane, who

My life seemed normal until my mother died. Before this happen, I was happy to spend time with my mother daily. Every day I went to work and came back home on my lunch break to eat lunch with my mother. I loved my mother because was my best friend. I could talk to her about anything and she would listen to me. She was a sweet and loving mother and I always enjoyed having lunch with her. My co-workers would get upset with me because I never stayed and ate lunch with them.

We all have that someone that we would do anything for, we even all have that someone, who we meet, and we know that they are the one. Deep down inside we know they could be the one but we might be too scared to look into it or admit it. Here, I’m going to tell you about my “special someone”. It starts with a simple outdoor wedding, some talking here and there, and it ends with a wonderful dance.

For as long as I can remember Halloween has been my favorite holiday. I remember as a child dressing up as my favorite Disney character or when I got too cool for princesses dressing up as the latest horror movie character. I remember going out with my parents to get candy or going to Halloween parties. But sitting here thinking about it it almost seems like a lifetime ago.

It is the spring of 1995, at 5 o’clock, and the sun will be setting soon. I can smell the aroma of Jasmine flowers as it enters the white mud-brick room of my dressing quarters. My fiance's and my family, have purchased enough flowers to fill the stone courtyard of the local mosque. The scent of the flowers envelops me. At the same time, it lingers on the white shirred lace curtains that are elegantly draped from the windows that flutter back and forth with the gentle breeze. While gazing at the billowing curtains, I am filled with feelings of nostalgia. How soothing they look! At once, I am reminded of the nurturing embrace of my mother, whom I often sought as a child, whenever I was touched by one of life’s misfortunes.

I’ve had the air kicked out of me playing backyard football with the neighborhood kids, but it wasn’t at all comparable to standing in front of a mirror getting ready to get married in a much too expensive Brooks Brothers Silver Regent Fit Flannel Windowpane 1818 Suit decorated with a lime green bow tie, because at least in my backyard the oxygen came back into my lungs. Rays of light beam through the multi colored leaf shaped windows, creating patterns in the deadly air. The dressing room is library quiet except for the crack of my voice as I unconvincingly practice saying I do and the creaky loose planks as I pace the archaic wood floor. It’s just me and my wedding planner Marcus who is buzzing all over the place manically scratching off his check list. His long scarlet blazer swaying around as he picks up wind like a matadors red cloth in a bullfight. The muscles he gets from his boxing hobby are defined by his tight gray t shirt, paired with too tight denim jeans, accentuating his flamboyant salmon scarf, and brown worn in Chelsea boots. Not evangelical wedding attire, but I can’t complain, he’s quirky, with his elevated mop of tight russet brown ringlets, smooth tawny beige skin, and gigantic Lindor truffle eyes, just looking at him makes you want to learn more. Marcus stops energetically buzzing around and looks at me after hearing my I do.

When a significant occasion comes knocking at your door, everyone in your family is filled with excitement, along with the excitement there is so much confusion. I remember when we were invited to a wedding. It was on a Monday, early in the morning, my dad just received a phone call from his uncle saying that the wedding has been date fixed. When my dad came back from work on the same day, there was an invitation card and a box filled with laddus (Indian sweet). We were all filled with excitement, until we figured out that we were the ones performing the ritual. This was a problem because now everyone is puzzled. We attended three programs, but the groom side didn’t inform us what time we were to arrive at and what rituals we were performing.

Exhausted after a long day, she finished drying her hands, yanked off what used to be her mother’s cooking apron, and restlessly flopped down on her favorite chair at the dining table trying to get as comfortable as possible. She, who now feels like the responsibility reposes in her hands, finished washing and scrubbing the last dirty plate left from our customary evening dinner. Ironically it seemed as if her conventional shyness had for once vanished her soul as she sat there prepared to tell me the story of her life, the story that she usually never warms up to because it brings back such melancholy memories of her past and of her beloved ones. My mother, beautiful yet frangible, is like the newborn baby of a mama bird. Effulgent, caring, and commiserate she is a woman who has always put her family first. She always looked up to them, always revered them, and was always affixed to them. Though warmed by their endearment and affectionate care, eventually all babies grow up and have to learn to flutter away individually without the guidance of their parents. Coincidentally, she too was no longer able to depend on her family’s support, and it was then that she had to leave the nest. But even so, she has learned to acclimate to the ways of life, and despite the barriers and difficulties, she has managed to find hope and merriment. Reaching that state of joy is a struggle, and that search for contentment has been quite difficult for Isabel.

Before the civil war in 1991, Mogadishu used to be like any other capital city in the world. It was not different from Roma, Italy. Mogadishu traditionally served as a commercial and financial center in East Africa. Tourists used to love visiting Mogadishu and lie down on the beach to sunbathe. In those old days, local Somalis and foreigners used to enjoy the city. The city had beautiful beachfront hotels, resorts such as Jazzira, and Lido, museums, and cathedrals. Its people used to dance away at a nightclub. Back then, Mogadishu residents used to spend time swimming and having picnics and then, in the evening, they would go out to the cinema or theater.

1.) Paris, a elegant, sweet girl was getting ready to be the bride and wife of her fiance. The guests waited in anticipation for the ceremony to begin, so they could see the lovely bride on her very special day. The wedding was going to be held on her parents beautiful property. The property contained a beautiful, clean horsebarn, where the reseption was to take place. It had the looks of a fairytale wedding, so ethereal, so spleduous.