mini wedding dresses

My heart is heavy today.


It was supposed to be our wedding day.

February 6, 2016.

A day that would erase the memory of our actual wedding day.

July 26, 2013.

The day in which we rushed to the courthouse.

It was four days after her diagnosis.

And five days before her first surgery was scheduled to take place.

Michelle was violently ill that day.

We said our vows.

Her, hopping around from the pain.

Me, crying without the ability to stop.

Seeing the love of my life so sick.

The overwhelming fear that I would lose her for the second time was too much to bear.

We left the courthouse that day and headed straight to the hospital.

As man. And wife.


May of 2015.

Michelle’s cancer would return in her liver, lung, ovary and tailbone.

She was terminal.

Shortly after we found out the devastating news we decided to do it.

We decided to plan a real wedding.

We hoped that she would make it to that far.


February 6, 2016.

That was the day that we picked.

It was going to be beautiful.

She had found her dream dress.

And her dream shoes.

She had helped me pick out a grey suit.

And a purple bow tie.

We had picked out all of the music.

Including the song she would walk down the aisle to.

‘At Last’ by Etta James.

A song so fitting for us given the eight years we spent apart.

We had selected the hotel.

The Ivy.

In downtown Chicago.

And the decor.

Children would be our groomsmen and bridesmaids.

Her mini me as the maid of honor.

We had it all planned.

We were so excited.


“Is it ok if I come John?” Arieona asked.

“You can come, but she’s in a coma like state so she’s not going to wake up. Just want you to know,” I responded.

It was around midnight.

A few days before Michelle passed away.

I was tired.

And lonely.

I was devastated.

And depleted.

After waiting awhile, Arieona finally arrived.

I greeted her at the front door of the hospice facility which had become like a second home.

“She won’t wake up. But they say if you talk to her she can hear you,” I informed Arieona as I took my seat in the lounger next to Michelle’s bed. mini wedding dresses

As the woman who was once like a sister to Michelle gently climbed into the bed, the tears began to flow.

For her.

And yes.

For me.

It had been nearly a decade since they had seen each other.

Arieona began to gently caress Michelle’s face.

I cringed.

I always cringed whenever anyone would touch her.

She was finally comfortable and I didn’t want her to be disturbed or woken.

“It’s you. You’re here,” Michelle said as she slowly came to.

It had been days since she awoke or spoke.

“I’m here.”

They hugged so tight.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Michelle said.

“I missed you too,” Arieona responded.

“Are you coming to the wedding? You have to come. My dress is so beautiful. I look like a princess in it,” Michelle proclaimed.

Looking at me through the tears, I knew that Arieona’s glare in my direction was a request for direction.

I nodded gently as I wiped the tears off of my face.

“I’m coming Michelle. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Credit: Better Not Bitter Widower