Day 18 – March SOLSC
The other day I wrote a post called 5 More Minutes (click here to read). In this post, I listed all the things I would do if I had 5 more minutes, here on earth, with my dad. Fran McCrackin (Pencilonmybackporch), mentioned in her comment about wanting to hear more about what I wrote about my wedding dress. I had never thought to even write about that moment until she mentioned it. So, I’m giving it a go, thanks to one of my readers.
The Wedding Dress Shop
On the busy streets of the Bronx, there was a tiny little Bridal Shop. Dresses were strung along both the left and right walls of the shop as you walked in. They puffed out into the one narrow aisle, leaving barely enough room to walk by. I remember just gazing up and down the racks wondering “could this be the place I find my dress at?”
This little, quaint, shop, wasn’t like the 2 other “wedding factories” I had been to with Mom and Gram. It was “a hole in the wall” as my dad would say. Nothing fancy – expect the dresses. A friend from work had told me about it – saying that the owner was so wonderful and she’d take care of me.
Mom and I went to the shop and were helped by a consultant named Stacey. She pulled this dress that they had just gotten in that day. I put it on, and just knew it. I wasn’t thrilled that the floor sample off -white and gold-ish, but luckily it could be ordered in bright white. The next day, we went back with Gram so she could see it. Transactions were made, and my dress was ordered.
The ladies did take care of me in that dress shop. They ordered my bridesmaid dresses even though they didn’t carry the designer or style. All I had to do was bring the girls to get measured.
A few weeks (maybe months – it’s been a long time), I was taking two of my bridesmaids to get measured. My dad was home at the time and said “hey can I come with you guys?” I had never thought of inviting him to the dress shop. Of course we let him come.
When we got to the dress shop, the girls went right ahead and got measured. I searched the rack for the sample of my dress. When I found it, I took it off the rack and turned to show my dad.
“Here Dad. This is my dress!”
As he looked at it, in a little bit of shock, he turned to my mom and whispered, “her’s is gonna be white, right?” To which my mom nodded yes. I can see the look of relief on his face still. My catholic daddy thought I was going to wear gold – not white!
The consultant, Stacy, asked me if I wanted to put it on so Dad could see me in it. I looked at him and gave him a smirk. “Nope, he’s gonna have to wait to see his little girl in her white dress on the wedding day,” I said with a giggle. He just smiled his big smile at me.
Little did I know – that day would never come for he and I. There would be no seeing his little girl in her “pure” white wedding dress. There would be no staring at me wondering where his little girl went. There would be no walking me down the aisle. There would be no tears rolling down our faces as he gave me away to the love of my life. My dad was called home to God 4 months before my wedding day.
If I could go back and do it again, I would’ve put that “gold-ish” dress on in that dress shop…just so he could’ve seen me in my wedding dress, and I could’ve seen his face staring back at me.
I’m participating in the March Slice of Life Story Challenge! Thank you to the team of writers at Two Writing Teachers for this wonderful writing community. A place for us to grow together as writers.