By Irma Iliana Gutierrez –

The clock is ticking, starting to fall behind schedule. The hair is up, just pin in the veil, load the dress, jump in the truck and speed to the church.

The date: Valentine’s Day 2009. The occasion: My mother’s third marriage, but her first trip down the aisle.

I come from a family of very strong and independent mujeres, all first born daughters. They are resilient in their goals, don’t take no for an answer or at least without a fight. Cue an example of my mother at Men’s Warehouse arguing whether there would be time for a fitting before the wedding. She got her way.

My mother, strong, beautiful and independent hasn’t always been so lucky in love. But that’s the pattern with the women of my family. One finds her prince charming right away, the next has to kiss a few frogs along the way.

The pattern you ask?

My great-great-great grandmother Rosita had two partners.

Great-great grandmother Guadalupe had one partner.

My great grandmother Dolores had three partners.

My wela Margarita had one partner.

My mother has had three.

It’s a roll of the dice. Getting your knight in shining armor on the first try skips a generation.

My mother met my father in high school and fell head over heels in love. The result being a teenage pregnancy and me, her first born daughter. They would marry and I would receive three brothers before my mother realized that this wasn’t the best relationship. They divorced before my youngest brother was born.

My mother would then meet stepfather number one and marry him looking for security and a stable family environment for her children. This too, would end in divorce.

Then my mother met Oscar, the man who I have come to consider my father. They are very much alike in spirit considering the age difference, my mother being older than him, but they make each other happy. He opened his arms, home, and heart to her four children and they’ve lived happily ever since. After eight years together they married this Valentine’s Day.

My mother is my rock, my own Jennifer Lopez. I fluff the train of her dress and calm her because she is nervous because she has never been the center of attention. She is glowing. Her third marriage proving to be the charm.

My mother, the hopeless romantic, is a princess on her wedding day.

And I as her maid of honor must toast her.

Her wedding day was the first day of the rest of her life. Her past has been erased. But she carries the lessons of her previous husbands with her. To be strong in the face of indifference. To work towards her goals and dreams and to not let anyone get in the way. To hold her head up high when she just wants to run and cry.

On her wedding day, I gave away my best friend. She is the woman I have shared my dreams with. The woman who has raised me and encouraged my goals and aspirations no matter what they are. La mujer who has cried with me when I’ve had my heart broken and thought the pain would consume me first and then the anger. La mujer who has molded me to become the strong, independent and hardworking person I am today.

I gave that woman away. My mother, my rock. She has found su prínicpe azul.

As I watch her exchange vows with my dad, the tears start to form. Tears not of sadness, but of felicidad. My mother is glowing. And although this trip down the aisle seals her life with my dad, I am not losing her, not now or ever.

My mother carries her children, along with the lessons, in her heart. I carry her in mine. La llevo en mi corazón.