Claire just wants to be the glamorous mother-of-the-groom—but when she realizes that her daughter-in-law has her own plans for the wedding, she steps back to focus on her own outfit, only for there to be a fight between her and Alice on the big day. Alice claims that Claire has destroyed the wedding by stealing her dream dress, while Claire sees nothing wrong in her actions. Who is wrong?
All I wanted was to be the mother-of-the-groom. That’s it. I just wanted to be the doting mother who loved her son more than anything—but this is the story of how my attempt to make my son’s wedding perfect turned into a day we’d all rather forget.
When Mark introduced Alice to us, she was unlike anyone I expected him to fall for. Mark, my son, is a lawyer at a top firm—a position that he secured straight after his graduation from Stanford.
“I’m going to be a lawyer, Mom,” he told me once when he was still in high school and doing an essay on the career he wanted to get into.
“I could easily see that,” I told him, making him breakfast as he worked away.
“It’s to help fight injustices. For children, specifically,” he said, drinking his orange juice.
Mark had big dreams, and I knew that my son was always going to reach for the stars.
Alice, on the other hand, was completely different from my son. Her entire personality was light and carefree, whereas Mark was serious and brooding. Alice was a self-taught coder, who freelanced from their cozy apartment. Their worlds, their politics, their interests didn’t align.
But they made it work—and they were a sweet couple for the most part. But love, as they say, is blind.
When Mark proposed to Alice, we were all invited to the scene to help surprise her.
“Please, Mom,” Mark said on the phone. “Alice isn’t close to her family, so to see you and Dad there will be good for her. She’ll know that she’s welcomed and supported.”
“Of course, honey,” I told him, already envisioning their wedding in my head.
I swallowed my reservations and offered to pay for the wedding. James and I had put money away for Mark’s studies, but he had always gotten bursaries which paid for it all.
“We can just use that money for the wedding, Claire,” my husband said over lunch the day after the proposal.
“It’s the best thing we could do for them,” I agreed. “This way they can save up to move out of that small apartment. I know Mark’s been talking about a house with a garden because he really wants a dog.”
When we told Mark and Alice, I thought that the gesture would bring us closer. I didn’t have any daughters, so I thought that this would be my chance.
I could get to know Alice better—and that would be good for Mark, to know that his wife and his mother got along well. Instead, the wedding planning only highlighted our differences.
After a few months into the wedding planning, I met Alice at a coffee shop so that we could go over the details. But we clashed on everything.
“I think roses are timeless,” I said, helping myself to a slice of cake.
“They are, but they’re also overdone in a sense,” Alice said, sipping her tea. “Mark and I want peonies.”
Our meeting went back and forth a few times—and we were stuck in a space where we just couldn’t agree on anything.
“Okay, how about this?” I asked her. “You go ahead with everything else, and just tell me what color your bridesmaids are wearing, so that there won’t be any clashes.”
“They won’t be wearing green,” she said. “I’m leaning toward pink.”
I paid the bill and we parted ways with the wedding planning.
But then, one afternoon Alice texted me.
Hi Claire, just picking out my wedding dress with the girls! I’m so excited! I wish you were here!
Attached were photos of her five top wedding dress picks.
I knew that Alice and I were on different ends of what we thought that the wedding should look like, but I wanted to be included in the big things. I wished that she had included me in the wedding dress shopping.
“At least she’s sending you the top picks,” James said as he read the newspaper next to me.
“I know, but it’s not the same,” I said.
“Do they look good?” he asked. “Can I see them?”
Together, we scrolled through the photos of the potential dresses. They were adequate choices, but nothing stood out.
Nothing that would fit the standard of my future daughter-in-law.
The dress that was Alice’s favorite and the first contender for the actual wedding dress wasn’t what I expected.
I typed back, telling Alice that it wasn’t quite the best choice. And I hoped that my financial stake in the wedding would weigh in. James and I hadn’t given the kids a budget. They had everything at their disposal.
Why not consider the second one? It might be more flattering for you.
James chuckled beside me.
“You’re at the point of over-stepping,” he said.
Before I could say anything, my phone pinged with a message from Alice.
Sorry, but I disagree. This is the dress I’m choosing.
That night over dinner, as James was plating our salmon, I shared my frustration with him.
“Alice is not even considering my opinion, and I’m paying for the dress!” I exclaimed.
James tried to mediate; he also texted Mark to make sure that he knew how I felt, too.
“I think you should just leave the wedding planning to them now,” James said. “Put all your attention into yourself and what you’re going to wear.”
But it also turned out that Mark was able to persuade Alice to wear the dress I preferred.
I had to admit, it was the less stressful option, and I hadn’t been able to shop for my dress before that.
So, that’s what I did.
I went to a few different boutiques and eventually found my perfect dress. It was emerald green, which I knew brought out my eyes.
“That’s beautiful,” James said when I tried the dress on for him.
I had felt different. I no longer felt like the mother-of-the-groom who had been pushed aside. Instead, I felt beautiful in my own skin, my self-esteem growing every time I thought of the dress.
When the wedding week loomed upon us, James and I tried to make ourselves as present as possible. We went to all the events that Mark and Alice needed us to be at—including the rehearsal dinner where we saluted them and drank champagne to toast the festivities.
“All sorted, Mom?” Mark asked me. “Your dress and everything?”
I smiled at my son. Despite being in the middle of Alice and me, he was always checking in on me.
“Of course,” I said. “I’m ready to celebrate you and Alice.”
On the morning of the wedding, I put on my green dress and did my make up. It was everything I had wanted to look for my son’s wedding—elegant and sophisticated.
As I arrived at the venue, the air was thick with murmurs. I ignored them, thinking that everyone was just so used to me being dressed in comfortable clothing, that this was something different for them.
I went straight to the bride’s dressing room, hoping to see Alice and compliment her before she walked down the aisle.
Upon opening the door, Alice looked up—her joyful expression collapsing into one of utter devastation. She looked me up and down before bursting into tears.
“Why did you do this to me, Claire?” she sobbed, her voice choked with emotion.
Confused, I stepped into the room and closed the door.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
“Your dress!” she exclaimed.
“What about it?” I asked, second-guessing everything.
“It’s my dream wedding dress, just in another color,” she said, nearly shouting.
I was taken aback.
“Alice, honestly,” I said. “I didn’t realize—they look so different in color.”
But Alice wasn’t having any of it. She sat on the edge of the couch, her head in her hands.
“How could you?” she looked up and cried out. “You’ve made this day about you! Just because we didn’t take any of your suggestions!”
Mark, having heard the commotion from his dressing room next door, came rushing in.
“Mom? What’s going on here?” he asked me.
He looked from Alice to me, seeking an explanation.
Trying to calm the waters, I explained everything slowly.
“I didn’t see the resemblance, Mark,” I said. “I truly just loved the dress, and I thought—”
Alice stood up and marched toward Mark.
“No!” she exclaimed. “You thought that you’d show me what I could’ve had, but in green. Isn’t that it?”
“Mom, please,” my son said. “Let’s just try to get through the day. Please, for me.”
I agreed and left the dressing room. I just wanted to find James and sit quietly until the day was over.
I knew that Alice and I were walking a thin line, but I didn’t expect her to shout at me in the manner that she did.
Naturally, I was upset, but I didn’t want to ruin their day any further.
Reflecting now, perhaps I should have been more open to Alice’s preferences. It was her day after all, not just mine to orchestrate. The question of whether I was wrong hangs heavily over me.
Yes, in trying to enforce my vision, I might have lost sight of what was truly important—Alice’s happiness and Mark’s peace on their special day.
Was I wrong for what I did?
The Heartbreaking Last Photo of Kris Kristofferson That’s Shaking the Internet
Kris Kristofferson’s death marks the end of a special time. He wasn’t just a talented songwriter and musician, but also a poet who shared the deep feelings of life — love, loss, and everything in between.
His strong words and heartfelt voice touched many people.
Now, it’s his final photo that has left fans crying.
The news of Kris Kristofferson’s death has been hard, leaving a big gap in my heart.
For those who grew up with his music, it feels like we’ve lost someone irreplaceable. Now, with Willie Nelson being the last living member of The Highwaymen, we’re reminded that an important era of American music and culture is fading away.
But Kristofferson’s life was about more than just his time with that legendary group. Born with roots in Texas and Sweden, his career took off in the 1960s. He wrote timeless songs like “Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down,” “Help Me Make It Through the Night,” and “For the Good Times.” His lyrics weren’t just songs — they were like poetry, capturing the raw feelings of life.
Most people would need many lifetimes to do what Kris did in one. He wasn’t just an award-winning musician — he also acted in movies, starring with Barbra Streisand in *A Star Is Born* (1976), a role that won him a Golden Globe.
“He was something special.”
“The first time I saw Kris performing at the Troubadour club in L.A., I knew he was special,” his co-star Streisand shared on Instagram. “Barefoot, playing his guitar, he seemed perfect for the movie I was working on, which became *A Star Is Born*.”
Kristofferson was also an Army ranger, a Rhodes scholar, a helicopter pilot, and, most importantly, a storyteller. His work touched many generations. As country singer Channing Wilson wrote on Instagram, “Kris, you left this world better than you found it.”
Beyond his music and movies, Kris had a huge heart. He fought for social justice, supporting civil rights and gender equality. Even as he got older, he stayed active, helping raise awareness and funds for groups like the United Farm Workers (UFW).
Last Instagram photo
Kris passed away peacefully at his home in Maui, Hawaii, on September 28. No cause of death was shared.
His Instagram was soon filled with tributes, as fans posted memories of how his music changed their lives. But it was his last public photo, shared by country star Tanya Tucker in April, that really touched people’s hearts.
In the photo, Kris stands next to Tanya, both representing the golden age of country music. Kris is wearing a Muhammad Ali T-shirt and smiling softly. Though age has softened his rugged looks, his spirit still shines. The young, bearded heartthrob may be gone, but what remains is a legend — a man whose presence is unmistakable, even in his later years.
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