My Own Mother Hid Her Wedding From Me, but Nothing Prepared Me for Who She Married — Story of the Day
Late at the office, drowning in reports under fluorescent lights, I was exhausted when my boss, Michael, dumped more work on my desk. As I left, my phone rang—Aunt Jenny reminded me of my mom’s wedding, news I hadn’t heard. Shocked, I drove to Mom’s house. She admitted she didn’t invite me, claiming it was to spare me stress. Hurt, I decided to attend anyway.
A week later, I drove Aunt Jenny to the church. Seeing Mom in a cream gown next to Michael—my boss—stunned me. I blurted out my frustration, silencing the room. Mom gently rebuked me; Michael left, shaken. In the parking lot, I stopped him. He explained he pushed me at work to help me grow, not to burden me. I realized Mom hid the wedding to protect me.
We returned to the ceremony. Mom’s radiant smile as she saw Michael spoke volumes. During the vows, Michael acknowledged me, warming my heart. At the reception, Mom asked if I was okay. I nodded—she deserved happiness. Michael joined us, and I accepted his gesture. That night, Mom married, and I didn’t lose her. I saw her fully, perhaps for the first time.
