When I was younger, around eleven, I heard my mother speaking to my grandmother about marriage. My mother had mentioned something about the weather and how it rained when she got married to my father. I heard my grandmother chuckling from the kitchen and telling her that she was wrong. I was still too young to know what my mother was talking about until the day my father had left. My mother was crying and talking about the weather again. She was saying it rained on her wedding day. At this age, sixteen, I started to understand a bit more about the rain and how people usually felt when it rained. The emotions that went into the scenery and the symbolism of it all. Rain usually makes people sad and depressed I guess, but on a wedding day? That’s different.
My father decided to leave when I was nine years old. Its been two years and my mother is still heart-broken. I can't blame her, can you? They're marriage was perfect until another women came along. He became tired of my mother and wanted nothing to do with her. Their marriage ended terribly. I had to witness the hurt my mother went though everyday from one man that was suppose to be her one and only.
I was squeezing her hand as tight as I could. I look up at my loving mother and she gives me a little smile. Her eyes sparkle blue as she smiles down towards me. I let go of her hand to sit on the ground, I bring the flower petals down with me in the white basket. My mother told me I was her flower girl, which I didn't see the point of but it made her smile every time she looked at me. Her white dress sweeps across the hardwood floor of the church as she paces back and forth. She told the others she didn't want anyone with her except me. People were calling them wedding jitters and kept saying she needed a little time. She was breathing heavily in and out. I think the anxiety and suspense was building on her. She loved him, I knew that, everyone knew that. You could see it in her eyes and the way she looked at him. A crack of thunder erupted and shook the church. I could hear a little gasp come from her mouth. I don’t understand why she is so nervous.
My name is Rebecca and I’m twenty-six years old. It’s my wedding day, and guess what, it’s raining. Both my mother and father are here to see me walk the aisle to my future. I walk out in the waiting area of the church. I pace back and forth and think of my younger self, sitting on the floor watching my mother do exactly what I am doing at this moment. I start to question everything and finally realize what she was going through at this very instant. She now blames the weather for the loss of her marriage. My father had left my mother because he was no longer happy. Whenever it rains it brings her back to her marriage. Looking into his eyes and saying “I do”. I didn't know the big deal until now. Why she went from loving the rain to despising it so harshly. A wedding day is suppose to be bright and beautiful. It symbolizes the way a couple will spend the rest of their life together. However when the thunder crackled on my mother's wedding day, I think it snapped something in the relationship. The marriage turned into a sea of lies and hatred. It was dark and depressing, I have seen my mother cry over and over again then. I imagine her sitting inside the church, how her heart cracks with the thunder and once again having a tear streamed face like she was out in the rain. Will my marriage turn out like my mother and fathers? Is this what rain on a wedding day means? Well, wouldn't that be ironic...
As soon as the thought drifts into my mind, the glass stained doors open and I see my future husband standing in a suit and tie waiting for me at the alter.
