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"The Matron of Honour Wore Overalls" by Ann Cooke Mum rushed into the house, late as usual. Fortunately ,I had expected this, and told her to arrive half an hour before I really needed her to(I love my mum, but this is a failing she has) Inspite of all mum's funny little ways ,I love her dearly, and we are best friends ,so she seemed a perfect choice as matron of honour, as everyone else in my family was married ,except for the neices and there were just too many of them to have them all as attendants...6 would be a bit over the top for a small wedding,anyway. Mum quickly got into her bridesmaid gown, known in the family as her "my kid is getting married dress" It really was a great gown ,but far too formal for most occassions.She had worn it when my brother got married, at my sister's wedding and now mine. Finally ,the bridal party were ready to step out, me in white, and my step daughter Sara and mum were resplendant in their coffee creme coloured gowns.It was hard to believe we had been slobbing around in t shirts, shorts and thongs only ten minutes earlier. We all bundled into the limo and headed for the church, and the reception was in full swing when suddenly the phone rang. I forgot to tell you ,my mum is a volunteer firefighter. The weather forecast that day had declared a state of emergency for the area, and so far she had not been required( I think I may have killed her if had been) The phone call was from the local firechief.Mum was required for an emergency task force to go to Newcastle (three hours away)and was to report to the station at midnight. As we saw away the last guest, mum rushed into the bedroom ,with all her finery, carrying a large bundle, and emerged, no longer in her coffee creme gown ,but in full uniform...orange overalls, black firefighter boots ,and her turnout coat, with her helmet under one arm. Draped on her other arm was "my kid is getting married dress" and as she walked to the car, her posey of apricot roses hung debonairely out of the pocket of her turnout coat. Newcastle was saved from devastation, in part thanks to my mum. Legend has it that she was the easily identified...she was the one with a pearl necklace , and a wilting spray of apricot roses, leaving petals strewn where the fire once blazed. I would like to think it was so..... By Ann Cooke Copywritten 2000 Permission for publication on A-Wedding Day, given by Ann Maree Cooke May 2000, copyright © Ann Maree Cooke, 2000, All rights reserved We love to hear from you. Please share your stories, poems, experiences and advice To submit your writings, click HERE To Read Love Stories & Experiences   CLICK HERE FREE "Planning your wedding" checklist