My Daughter Knit My Wedding Dress
Finding Lily
That morning, with twenty-three people in the house,
I found my daughter crying in the laundry room.
She whispered, “I checked it again, Mom… It was perfect then. I swear.”
She was talking about the wedding dress she had knitted for me.
The Dress Destroyed
Upstairs, the closet revealed the damage:
ripped stitches and a dark stain. I held her and said,
“No, baby. I’m mad at the person who did this.”
It was deliberate—Clara, Daniel’s sister, had poured wine on it.
Confrontation and Repair
Clara admitted, “I was protecting my brother.
That dress made this wedding look cheap.”
Daniel made her apologize to Lily and leave.
Together, Lily and I repaired the dress, leaving the alterations visible.
Wedding and Resolution
Walking down the aisle, I felt complete.
“I feel like the best version of myself,” I told Daniel.
That night he said, “No one gets to rewrite what Lily did for us.”
The dress held strong—and so did we.
