My Grandmothers Are The Flower Girls At My Wedding and Not Everyone Is Happy About It…
Weddings, I rapidly discovered, elicit opinions from people you didn’t even realize had opinions. When my fiancé, Evan, and I began planning our wedding, I was determined to make it seem personalized rather than a generic ceremony. One thing was immediately clear: neither of our families had any small children. No nieces, nephews, or infant cousins.
Instead of attempting to borrow someone else’s child to be our flower girl, why not ask my two grandmothers?
Grandma Helen and Grandma Marlene were both in their seventies and still full of life—more fun than most people my age, if I’m being honest. They were the kind of ladies who danced at family gatherings, gossiped like teens over coffee, and continued to send handwritten birthday cards.
When I called them up to ask, there was a long pause. Then Helen burst out laughing.
“You’re serious?” she asked between giggles. “You want two old ladies throwing petals down the aisle?”
“Exactly,” I said.
To my astonishment, she consented immediately. Marlene needed a little more convincing, but once Helen had her on board, they went all in. They even went dress shopping together, emailing me continuous updates.
“Helen wants a lavender dress, but I think I should wear pink—what do you think?” Marlene asked me one afternoon.
I loved how excited they were. It was perfect.
Until my future mother-in-law found out.
She drew me aside at dinner one night, her demeanor taut as if she was about to bring bad news.
“Sweetheart,” she said carefully, “are you sure this is the right choice? It’s… well, a little unconventional.”
I knew exactly what she meant. She thought it was weird. Embarrassing, even.
“I think it’s perfect,” I told her. “And they’re excited.”
She pressed her lips together, clearly holding back an argument. Evan, to his credit, just shrugged and said, “I think it’s great.”
But the tension stayed. His side of the family was very traditional. I could already imagine the raised eyebrows throughout the ceremony. And then, a few days before the wedding, my mother-in-law did the unthinkable.
She called my grandma and attempted to get them to stand down.
Helen called me, and her voice was particularly harsh.
“That woman,” she started, “thinks we’re going to embarrass you.”
I felt my stomach drop. “What?”
“She called me and Marlene and told us she was worried we’d ‘draw attention away from the bride and groom.’”
“She actually said that?”
“Oh, yes,” Helen huffed. “Like two old ladies tossing petals is going to ruin your wedding.”
I was fuming. Not only did she go behind my back, but she also implied that my grandmothers were unworthy of meaningful inclusion.
“She didn’t talk you out of it, did she?” I asked cautiously.
“Oh, hell no,” Helen scoffed. “If anything, I’m throwing those petals with even more enthusiasm now.”
Marlene, however, had doubts.
“I don’t want to cause problems, sweetheart,” she admitted when I called her. “I’d step down if it makes things easier for you.”
“No,” I said firmly. “This isn’t about making things easier. It’s about celebrating people who matter to me. And you and Grandma Helen matter.”
That seemed to reassure her, but I could tell she was still concerned about the tension.
On the day of the wedding, I could feel my mother-in-law’s disdain. She was courteous yet frigid. Some of Evan’s family mumbled as they spotted my grandmothers in their flower girl dresses—Helen in lavender and Marlene in pink, both grinning.
And then the ceremony began.
The music played, and they walked down the aisle, scattering petals with glee. The entire room erupted in laughter and applause. Even the wary relatives couldn’t help but smile as Helen sprinkled flowers over a visitor’s head like confetti. Marlene, being the graceful one, moved a little slower and waved gently as if she were royalty.
By the time they got to the altar, even my mother-in-law was smiling. She still seemed stiff, but there was no doubting the warmth in the room.
Later, at the reception, no one could stop talking about them.
“That was the best thing I’ve ever seen at a wedding,” one of Evan’s aunts told me.
“Your grandmothers are iconic,” a friend said.
Even my mother-in-law, though begrudgingly, admitted, “It wasn’t what I expected, but… they certainly made an impression.”
And the best part? Helen and Marlene had the time of their lives.
“We’re thinking of making this a business,” Helen joked as she sipped champagne. “Professional flower girls for hire. What do you think?”
I laughed. “I think you’d be booked for years.”
Marlene patted my hand. “Thank you for including us, sweetheart. It meant the world.”
And in that instant, I knew I had made the proper decision.
Because weddings aren’t about traditions. They are about love. And my grandmothers? They deserved to be celebrated just like everyone else.
So, if you ever wonder whether you should break a wedding ‘law’ to make it more special, do it.