Eleven months later, I still have not cried. I have tried. My therapist has tried. Graham has stayed quiet about it because he does not know what to say. Piper has not called. Lacey called once, in August, to say she was "trying to understand." I told her I was glad. I did not reach out to her after. Elaine sent me a card on what would have been my mother's birthday. It said, "She loved you. I wish you had let her tell you that." I threw it away. I do not know if I am a monster. I know that most people, reading this, will think that I am. I know my mother's friends, my sisters, and a full third of my wedding guest list will spend the rest of their lives telling a version of this story in which I am the villain. I accept that. But I also know this: I have never felt clearer than I did at 8:43 AM on my wedding day. I knew what she was going to do. I protected my joy. And I would do it again tomorrow. So tell me — was keeping her away unforgivable, or was it the only way to save the best day of my life?
Was I right to keep her away, or should nothing come before a dying mother?
* Story inspired by real-life situations. Names and details have been changed for privacy.
