Son Doesn’t Invite His Mom to His Wedding, but She Attends and Sees Another Woman Posing as Her — Story of the Day

When the taxi dropped me off, I was immediately struck by a picture of my handsome son smiling next to a gorgeous woman. The picture was printed on a poster announcing their wedding. Realizing my son was getting married without informing me broke my heart. I was still in shock when I looked past the open gates and saw the ceremony in full swing. Hundreds of people were present, and the couple stood on a tall dais as a priest officiated their union. I barely heard their vows because all I could think about was how sad it was to have a child who wanted nothing to do with me. I noticed an elderly woman standing near the dais in an area reserved for family, but I only gave her a passing glance.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I watched the joyous event. Just as I decided to go inside and try to speak to my boy, the security personnel, who had been engrossed in the vows, saw me. I no doubt looked like a beggar, so the head guard quickly signaled for backup.

“What do you want, you old woman?” the head guard asked.

“I’m here to speak to my son!” I replied hastily.

The guard, whose tag announced him as Thomas, scoffed, filled with doubt. “Nice try, old lady, but I doubt anyone in there could have a mother who looks like this,” he pointed out. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

His colleagues began to surround me, and guests started glancing towards the entrance where we were. I knew they would want to end the disturbance quickly, and I wasn’t about to go down easily, so I took a deep breath and shouted my son’s first name. They lunged at me, but I kept shouting, pouring all my rage and despair into it, hoping he would hear and care.

I was subdued in seconds and was about to be hauled off when my son appeared at the gate, looking flustered. When he saw me, he turned beet red and faced the head guard, who thought he was angry. “Who’s this?” he asked with a frown.

I thought he didn’t recognize me, so I tried to get his attention. “Joshua, it’s mommy, look at me.” But he wouldn’t. He kept his back to me as he scolded the guard for allowing such a commotion.

“This is a wedding, ma’am, not a homeless shelter. Leave now while I’m being nice,” he said to me. His words tore at me. How could he be so insensitive? I struggled free from my captors, who were momentarily confused, and caught my son by the sleeve.

“Let me go, you vile woman!” he shouted.

By now, a crowd had gathered, so he couldn’t afford to treat me roughly. “He is my son!” I shouted. “He has a birth scar on his left thigh!” My son would have denied it, but his wife Carly had seen the scar and spoke up.

“Are you really his mother?”

“Yes,” I answered sadly.

“But how could that be?” Carly asked. “Steve introduced that woman to me as his mother,” she added, pointing at the woman I had noticed earlier. Carly needed proof, so she faced the woman she thought was Steve’s mother and asked her if Joshua really had a scar on his thigh. The woman couldn’t answer, revealing the truth.

“Is she really your mom?” Carly asked my son, looking sad. Steve hesitated before saying, “I was afraid that you would leave me if you met my mother.” His voice trembled. It turned out, Steve hired that woman to take my place. The thought saddened me even more.

But Carly was furious. “I can accept your mom, but I cannot accept your behavior. You lied to me. If you can be ashamed of your mom, then how can I be sure you won’t be ashamed of me in the future? I don’t want to marry a man like you!” She returned his ring and broke up with him.

We left together, but because she was too upset, we parted ways after she checked me into a hotel. The next day, she returned and drove me all the way to my home in the country. I thanked her for all she did and she left with my telephone number. She found closure in our conversations as she dealt with the breakup, and we started talking more frequently over the phone. Her own parents had died in a car crash when she was younger, so she enjoyed pretending I was her mother. I didn’t mind; I had lost a son and gained a daughter. One who was not ashamed of being seen with me.

We became close friends, and Carly visited me almost every month, even though she was no longer dating my son, who sulked away in his apartment, bitter and lonely till the very end.