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Daughter fulfills mom's dying wish of helping her pick the perfect wedding dress

They even made up a fiancé to make it happen.

Photo credit: Canva

Sometimes our happiest memories have a dash of sadness to them.

It was Amy Astrauskas’ dying wish was to see her daughter Emily Elizabeth Creighton in a wedding dress.

Though Creighton had no wedding plans on the horizon, she was able to help that dream come true for her mom—and managed to capture the touching moment on camera.

In a video posted to her Instagram, Creighton explained that her mom actually called a nearby bridal and lied, saying her daughter was getting married, which Creighton joked was “such a savage move.”

As they sipped champagne and answered “a million questions” about this made-up fiancé, Creighton tried on dress after dress, each more gorgeous than the last. The joy felt in the clip is palpable, to say the least.

Finally, they did indeed find the one. And it’s on hold for when and if Creighton decides to tie the knot.

“Honestly one of the funniest and saddest moments of my life,” she said “But now, even though she’s gone, I get to say she helped me to pick out my wedding dress.”

People were, understandably, moved by the entire thing.

“What a beautiful story! I’m sure it was one of the best days of her life ❤️❤️,” one person wrote.

Another added, “Wow that’s beautiful and sad and just sums up life. ❤️”

A few even shared their own similar stories.

“I was a bridal consultant and this happened. But I knew it was her dying wish, and we did a whole bridal photo session. She ended up buying it and got married a couple of years later in that dress. One of my proudest moments as a consultant.,” one person commented.

“Me and my sweet Mumma did the same when she was dying. It’s one of my most precious memories. I have a video of her saying ‘we said yes to the dress!’ No dress was purchased 😂 I am so sorry for your loss but so happy you also shared this beautiful memory with your darling mum 🥰” wrote another.

In an interview with Today, Creighton shared that even though her mom (who died of breast cancer on March 2021 at age 63) will no longer be around to actually see the wedding, it will have all the other details she had previously conjured up. All except one tiny thing.

“The only thing that has changed is, my mom thought the person at the end of the aisle would be a man!” Creighton quipped, since she came out as gay in 2022. Still, she knows her mom would have been “totally fine with it.”

“All my mom ever wanted was for me to be happy."

What a beautiful reminder to truly savor whatever time we have on this Earth with the people who matter the most.

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Parents with teens can't help but relate to mom's heartbreaking video about 'summer guilt'

It's a special kind of grief almost all parents experience at some point.

@cyndygdub/TikTok

Lots of parents felt this way, without having a name for it.

When you have kids, summers are a flurry of activities. Going to amusement parks and zoos, playing outside, eating ice cream—lots and lots of ice cream.

And then, the preteen years hit and all that changes. Suddenly a kid’s interest shifts. They spend less time hanging with the fam and more hanging with friends, or alone. Though this transition is natural, it can still be painful for parents and make them feel like they’re not doing enough to evoke that same kind of magic the season once held.

As Cyndy Gatewood’s three children have all entered teen and preteen chapters, she began to feel this particular kind of pain, which she called “summer guilt.”

In a now-viral TikTok, Gatewood described summer guilt as "the guilt that comes when you have teens and preteens during the summer, and you're home with them, but they're too old to go to a playground everyday … and now they just want to be in their rooms. And it's like, should I be doing something? Should I be taking them somewhere everyday? But when I ask them … they don't want to."

“I still have that constant guilt that I’m not doing enough. That their summer’s being wasted,” she says, and these feelings only get exacerbated when she sees other families with younger kids enjoying themselves on social media.

Though she knows that this shame is something she’s putting on herself, Gatewood still asked if there were other parents out there who would relate. And boy, could they.


@cyndygdub My kids are 14 and under and the transition from little kids to big kids can be hard on us parents #fyp #motherhood #teens #parenthood #summer #momguilt #preteens #kids ♬ Backsound Puisi - Audiolist Productions


“The teen transition is so hard. It’s hard to bring them joy now, used to be so easy,” one parent lamented.

Another wrote, “My heart broke when my son stopped wanting to go explore the new parks.”

A few folks chimed in to reassure that just because teens preferred to be in their room, it didn’t have to mean that summer was wasted. In fact, that solitude could also contain some pretty wonderful memories.

“I still remember so clearly being a teenager and my favorite thing in the world was being in my room on my own doing my own thing. Don’t feel guilty, it’s healthy to spend time on your own. They don’t need to be busy, to be doing something every moment of every day,” one person wrote.

Another added, “...then I remember my own teenage years, and I know how peaceful I was in my room. I had my first Walkman, listened to music, translated the lyrics, read books. It didn’t feel like a waste of summer.”

Many reflected that perhaps the root emotion Gatewood was feeling wasn’t guilt, but grief. As one person put it, “It’s more like grieving a life that you no longer have which you recall was the best time of your life. And it’s nothing you did wrong and nothing you can do to preserve it.”

By opening up about her feelings, Gatewood told Good Morning America that countless people have commented to thank her for putting this very relatable situation into tangible words.

"It makes me emotional, because it really is such a beautiful thing when we can open up about our struggles, especially as parents, and find out that we're not alone in these feelings,” she shared.

And since sharing her video, Gatewood has seemed to take on a more nuanced perspective on this new parenting chapter.

"It's a beautiful thing to watch your kids grow up. But we have to evolve with that. And that's what I'm learning right now.”

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This wholesome rap song is the ultimate millennial dad anthem

"To all the dads in our generation who are changing what it means to be a father."

@dadgotbars/Instagram

This one goes out to all the millennial dads out there showing up in big ways.

Parenting has evolved, and perhaps we see that most clearly in the way that fatherhood has specifically adapted.

The once “traditional” image of the rigidly stoic father who, when not completely absent, acted as the family disciplinarian, is becoming more and more the relic of a bygone era. And in its place are dads who willingly and happily take equal part in childcare, prioritize emotional connection and essentially are the involved male figure they might have wished for as kids.

And what’s really beautiful about this is not only that future generations have a healthy foundation from which to grow, but that adult men give their own inner child a bit of healing, too. For that, modern dads really do deserve their kudos.

And what better way to do that than through a rap created by a millennial dad himself?

For Father’s Day, actor, rapper and proud girl dad Bret Green (aka “Dad Got Bars” on Instagram) released a delightfully fun but deceptively insightful song titled “Millennial Dad,” commending the next generation of dads who are changing what it means to be a father.

Sharing what inspired the tune, Green told Upworthy, “I realized that our generation was built different when it comes to fatherhood. I had so many friends who were amazing fathers and doing things that our fathers just did not do.”

Green’s lyrics touch on everything from changing diapers to disciplining without physical violence to a newfound enthusiasm for exfoliating, and applauds both the boy dads for “just trying to make a man out of a little boy” and all the girl dads for “showing baby girl what boys to avoid.”

Watch below:

Of course there’s still progress to be made, but it’s no wonder why millennials are being hailed “the best generation of dads.” By and large they’re putting in the work on multiple levels. And that’s cause for celebration, in the form of a rap song or otherwise.

And if you think that’s the only wholesome millennial parent content that Green has to offer in the form of rap songs, guess again. His account is chock full of gems, including an oh-so relatable lament on never ending laundry.

In fact, Green shared with Upworthy that even though he’s technically been rapping since he was 19 years old, inspiration hadn’t really struck until he became a father. Now, the “songs write themselves.” Plus, it’s an opportunity to create “a special memory” with his daughter, whose voice is often featured.

Check out the full version of “Millennial Dad” on Spotify, and give Green a follow on Instagram.

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Please read this before you post another RIP on social media

There is a hierarchy of grief and it's important to know where you fall on it before posting about someone's death.

Image from GOOD.

Working through grief is a community thing.


Grieving in the technology age is uncharted territory.

I'll take you back to Saturday, June 9, 2012. At 8:20 a.m., my 36-year-old husband was pronounced dead at a hospital just outside Washington, D.C.

By 9:20 a.m., my cellphone would not stop ringing or text-alerting me long enough for me to make the necessary calls that I needed to make: people like immediate family, primary-care doctors to discuss death certificates and autopsies, funeral homes to discuss picking him up, and so on. Real things, important things, time-sensitive, urgent things.

At 9:47 a.m., while speaking to a police officer (because yes, when your spouse dies, you must be questioned by the police immediately), one call did make it through. I didn't recognize the number. But in those moments, I knew I should break my normal rule and answer all calls. "He's dead??? Oh my God. Who's with you? Are you OK? Why am I reading this on Facebook? Taya, what the heck is going on?"

Facebook? I was confused. I hadn't been on Facebook since the day before, so I certainly hadn't taken the time in the last 90 minutes to peek at the site.

"I'll call you back", I screamed and hung up. I called my best friend and asked her to search for anything someone might have written and to contact them immediately and demand they delete it. I still hadn't spoken to his best friend, or his godsister, or our godchild's parents, or a million other people! Why would someone post it to Facebook SO FAST?

While I can in no way speak for the entire planet, I certainly feel qualified to propose some suggestions — or, dare I say, rules — for social media grieving.

How many RIPs have you seen floating through your social media stream over the last month? Probably a few. Death is a fate that we will each meet at some point. The Information Age has changed the ways in which we live and communicate daily, yet there are still large voids in universally accepted norms.

This next statement is something that is impossible to understand unless you've been through it:

There is a hierarchy of grief.

Yes, a hierarchy. It's something people either don't understand or understand but don't want to think or talk about — yet we must.

There is a hierarchy of grief.

Hierarchy is defined as:

  1. a system or organization in which people or groups are ranked one above the other according to status or authority, and
  2. an arrangement or classification of things according to relative importance or inclusiveness.

What does this mean as it relates to grief? Let me explain. When someone dies — whether suddenly or after a prolonged illness, via natural causes or an unnatural fate, a young person in their prime or an elderly person with more memories behind them than ahead — there is one universal truth : The ripples of people who are affected is vast and, at times, largely unknown to all other parties.

A death is always a gut punch with varying degrees of force and a reminder of our own mortality. Most people are moved to express their love for the deceased by showing their support to the family and friends left behind.

In the days before social media, these expressions came in the form of phone calls, voicemail messages, and floral deliveries.

If you were lucky enough to be in close proximity to the family of the newly deceased, there were visits that came wrapped with hugs and tears, and deliveries of food and beverages to feed all the weary souls.

Insert social media. All of those courtesies still occur, but there is a new layer of grief expression — the online tribute in the form of Facebook posts, Instagram photo collages, and short tweets.

What's the problem with that? Shouldn't people be allowed to express their love, care, concern, support, and prayers for the soul of the recently deceased and for their family?

Yes.

And no.

Why? Because there are no established "rules," and people have adopted their own. This isn't breaking news, and you're not trying to scoop TMZ. Listen, I know you're hurt. Guess what? Me too. I know you're shocked. Guess what? Me too. Your social media is an extension of who you are. I get it. You "need" to express your pain, acknowledge your relationship with the deceased, and pray for the family.

Yes.

However...

Please give us a minute.

We are shocked.

We are heartbroken.

Give the immediate family or circle a little time to handle the immediate and time-sensitive "business" related to death. In the minutes and early hours after someone passes away, social media is most likely the last thing on their minds. And even if it does cross their mind, my earlier statement comes into play here.

There is a hierarchy of grief.

Please pause and consider your role and relationship to the newly deceased. Remember, hierarchy refers to your status and your relative importance to the deceased. I caution you to wait and then wait a little longer before posting anything. This may seem trivial, silly, and not worth talking about, but I promise you it isn't.

If the person is married, let the spouse post first.

If the person is "young" and single, let the partner, parents, or siblings post first.

If the person is "old" and single, let the children post first.

If you can't identify the family/inner circle of the person, you probably shouldn't be posting at all.

Do you get where I'm going with this?

In theory, we should never compare grief levels, cast the grief-stricken survivors into roles, or use words like status and importance. But maybe we need to at this moment (and for the next few weeks and months).

The "RIP" posts started hitting my timeline about an hour after my husband's death, and I certainly didn't start them. This created a sense of confusion, fear, anxiety, panic, dread, and shock for the people who knew me, too. What's wrong? Who are we praying for? Did something happen? Did someone pass? Why are there RIPs on your wall and I can't reach you? Call me please! What's going on?

That's a small sample of messages on my voicemail and text inbox. I had to take a minute in the midst of it all to ask a friend to post a status to my Facebook page on my behalf.

Your love and expressions of support are appreciated and needed, but they can also be ill-timed and create unintended additional stress.

The person is no less dead and your sympathy no less heartfelt if your post, photo, or tweet is delayed by a few hours. Honestly, the first couple of hours are shocking, and many things are a blur. Most bereaved people will be able to truly appreciate your love, concern, prayers, and gestures after the first 24 hours.

I've learned this from the inside — twice within the last four years. And I assure you that if we each adopted a little patience and restraint in this area, we would help those who are in the darkest hours of their lives by not adding an unnecessary layer of stress.

A few extra hours could make all the difference.


This article originally appeared on 05.07.19

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