‘Another Attempt to Make Life Better’
I lifted tiers of tulle off the dressing room carpet and sighed heavily. “Every layer must be hemmed,” I said. “Can you fix it by prom, Mom?” she pleaded softly. I winced. For 20 months, I’d watched our three children shoulder disappointments since toxic mold invaded our home and we were forced to move into trailers in our backyard. Another deep breath. Another attempt to make life better. We bought the dress. I grabbed shears, then trimmed an even strip. Finding forgiveness in her smile, I hoped this memory would eclipse the others. — Carol Morgan Milberger
Mom’s Acknowledgment
For years, Mom referred to James as “tu amigo.” I confronted her about the way she dismissed our relationship. “He’s not just a friend, Ma. We live together.” She admitted that she hadn’t been sure what to call him. Dating someone for that long was new for me, too. “Just say his name,” I offered. Now, 15 years in, she sends greeting cards that read “For Both of You.” And with her pen, she underlines the sentiments that catch her eye: English words like “happiness,” “wonderful” and — most important to me — “couple.” — Erasmo Guerra
One Pound, Four Ounces — and 1,200 Miles
Nicole weighed one pound, four ounces at birth. So tiny, her father’s wedding ring fit around her arm, like a bracelet. Doctors gave a five percent chance of survival. “But Nicole came into NICU kicking,” recalled Sue, her nurse and my sister. “She was a fighter.” Sue cared for her for 107 days, checking in even during days off. Today, Nicole is a 26-year-old athlete and nurse. The two reunited last fall when Sue traveled 1,200 miles for Nicole’s big day. “I’d seen a wedding ring on her arm,” Sue said. “Now I wanted to see one on her finger.” — Mindi Ellis
A Match Made in Parental Heaven
My parents spotted Joe at a friend’s summer barbecue. “Go talk to him,” they urged. I did. We chatted briefly until someone interrupted us. Three weeks later, I joined friends at a party held — surprise! — at Joe’s house. His mother bee-lined over: What was my name? Where did I live? I told her. “That’s two miles from my son.” Unaware we had already met, she called him over. “Ask her out for drinks,” she said. “No. Drinks and dinner.” The next week, we started dating. Three years later, we married. Our parents lived happily ever after. — Kathy Shiels Tully
