Words tumbled from my daughter’s trembling voice as she accused me: “You stole my wedding gifts!” She was furious that the espresso machine, luxury linens, and spa weekend—presents showered upon the day—ended up with us. I simply laughed, letting reality settle like gentle snow. “You stole my wedding,” I replied calmly. “This is just karma giving me back what I missed.”
Her outrage only fueled my relief. Her fairness-free demand had overshadowed what should have been my day. Seeing her meltdown, I realized how entitlement clouds gratitude. Meanwhile, at home, Adam and I finally celebrated with our own Arctic honeymoon, each shimmering moment untainted.
My daughter’s marriage already teetered—Kyle looked hollow, missing every meaningful glance, lost in entitlement’s echo. Some lessons, I’ve learned, must come through disruption. And in that quiet, I held onto the deeper joy: reclaiming my ceremony, not stolen but redeemed.
