Brides USA

FIRST PERSON

EIGHT WAYS

TO HONOR A LOST

LOVED ONE

Michelle Ward

Trainor is a

lifestyle writer

and editor

living in New

York City with

her husband.

I’m not sure exactly when my mother

knew the end was near, but I’ll never

forget the day I did. I got a call from my

father telling me that I needed to come

home immediately, and I did, one day

after my parents’ 30th wedding anni-

versar y. She never wanted to burden

anyone around her with her pain. The

fact that she let my father make that call

told me everything I needed to know.

Three days later, she was gone. I missed

her immensely and immediately.

As anyone who has lost a loved one

knows, one of the most difficult moments

comes when you realize he or she won’t be

there to experience the rest of your life.

I was 25 when my mom died, and with

all the loss I was feeling came a gut-

wrenching thought: My mother is never

going to meet my husband or see me get mar-

ried or know my children. When that first

major life moment arrived, it hit me like

the proverbial ton of bricks.

So even though I couldn’t wait to marry

Matt, when it came to planning, I dragged

my feet. The thought of doing it without

my mom was crushing and overwhelming.

I gave myself a grace period. (I couldn’t be

expected to visit venues over Christmas,

right?) But after one too many questions

from friends and family, I decided to rip

off the Band-Aid and start with what I

thought would be hardest: the dress.

On my first appointment, I found

myself awkwardly explaining why my

mom wasn’t there. “I’m here with my

aunts and my best friend, um, my mom

passed away, so, um ...” I muttered to the

saleswoman. “But, um, I’d love to see

something with lace sleeves.” Carissa,

my best friend and matron of honor,

shot me a sympathetic look. “I just don’t

want anyone to think she wouldn’t come

or we’re estranged or something,” I

whispered. As I tried on each dress, the

three of them beamed and told me how

beautiful I was, but my mom’s absence

was palpable. After that appointment,

I didn’t go on another for five months.

Whatever your relationship is with

your mother, a wedding tends to magnif y

it. My mom and I were exceptionally

close. She understood me so well and

could help me work through any process.

I carried her spirit around with me, from

the stories I’d tell about her (which Matt

said made him feel like he knew her) to

wearing her wedding band, which I put

on my finger after her funeral and have

never taken off.

The best way to honor her was to not let

her death stop me from enjoying this spe-

cial time in my life. So I decided I had to

stop wallowing in her absence and start

planning. Sometimes it was difficult, but I

tried focusing on the positive, just as my

mom always did. I had a wonderful sup-

port system: a loving family, including my

father, who had been my rock and gave me

amazing advice along the way, a great

group of girlfriends, and Matt’s family,

who were warm and welcoming.

And then there was Matt. Without my

asking, he started researching bridal

salons, sending me links to dresses, and

setting up appointments for me. Not

many grooms want to spend their week-

end shopping for wedding gowns, but he

was right beside me with a big smile on

his face. The sales associates couldn’t

believe I’d let him see me in the dress

before our wedding day, but we didn’t

care; it worked for us. Before long, I

found myself gaining enthusiasm for

the process. It did feel like ever y bridal

salon I visited was filled with giddy

brides and their equally giddy mothers.

But then I’d come out of a dressing

room and find Matt drinking cham-

pagne with the other brides’ moms, and

I’d shift my focus from what I didn’t

have to what I did. And when I finally

tried on the dress and saw his reaction, I

knew it was the one and that my mother

would’ve loved it. More important,

she’d have loved the way Matt and I

became our own family. We were facing

a challenging time and growing closer

through the process.

Which brings us to the wedding itself. I

knew this would be the day I missed my

mom the most, so I had a plan: The night

before, after the rehearsal dinner, I went

back to my room and wrote to her. I cried,

but it was cathartic. I woke up comforted

(albeit with puff y eyes, which my makeup

artist magically banished), knowing

that even though she wasn’t there, she

was present. I carried lilies of the valley,

her favorite flowers, and her treasured

rosar y was my “something blue.” Holding

it while I exchanged my vows made me

feel like she was alongside me. My child-

hood priest, who was ver y close to my

mother, officiated the ceremony and

made her a part of his homily. When

he said, “Jeanne is with us here today,”

he was right. And she was proud.

Leave a “reserved” seat open, or

place simple flowers in the seat

where she would have been seated.

Attach her locket or brooch to

your bouquet, or wrap his favorite

tie around the stems.

Wear a piece of her jewelry

(like an engagement ring or

wedding band) as your “something

borrowed.”

Play her favorite song at the

reception, and ask all family

members to get up and dance.

Serve one of her favorite foods

or beloved recipes during dinner

or dessert.

Cut a heart out of his favorite

dress shirt or her wedding

gown and sew it to the inside of

your dress.

Write a special note to those

who are missing in your

ceremony program.

In lieu of giving out favors, make

a donation to charity in her honor.

I’d come out of a dressing room and find Matt drinking

champagne with the other brides’ moms, and I’d

shift my focus from what I didn’t have to what I did.

110 JUNE/JULY 2016 BRIDES.COM

COURTESY OF THE AUTHOR