gifts and registry

Whether you’re looking to give or receive, gifts are an important part of any marriage ceremony or bridal shower; do it with thought and care.

A Letter in the Rain
It was a rainy afternoon when Mia first noticed him. She was running to catch the bus, her umbrella flipping in the wind, and she collided with a stranger on the crowded street. Papers flew everywhere, soaking quickly in the downpour. Embarrassed, she bent down to gather them, only to realize that he, too, was kneeling, trying to catch the same sheets. Their hands brushed, and for a moment, time seemed to pause. He smiled—a warm, nervous smile that made her heart skip.
By Sudais Zakwan3 days ago in Marriage
How to Plan a Wedding Without Stress
Planning a wedding is often described as one of life’s happiest experiences—but it can also become overwhelming if not handled thoughtfully.
By Stories Today12 days ago in Marriage
Mother’s Day Jewelry: Timeless Gifts That Celebrate Love and Appreciation
Mother’s Day jewelry is one of the most heartfelt ways to express love, appreciation, and respect for mothers. Unlike ordinary gifts, jewelry holds emotional value and becomes a lasting reminder of special moments. From elegant gemstone rings to delicate necklaces and timeless bracelets, Mother’s Day jewelry beautifully symbolizes the unconditional bond between a mother and her family.
By Margaret Johnson26 days ago in Marriage
Marriage 2.0: How Couples Are Rewriting Love in 2026
Marriage in 2026 no longer looks like it did a decade ago. The institution hasn’t disappeared, but it has evolved quietly, deeply, and intentionally. Today’s couples are not abandoning marriage; they are upgrading it. Welcome to Marriage 2.0, where love is no longer defined by roles, control, or silent sacrifice, but by awareness, partnership, and emotional maturity.
By Sathish Kumar 27 days ago in Marriage
The Real Reason Oval Engagement Rings in London Look Bigger and Brighter
If you’ve been browsing engagement rings lately, especially in London, you’ve probably noticed one style standing out again and again — oval engagement rings. They look bigger, brighter, and somehow more elegant than many other shapes. But why is that?
By layladiamondsadarsh diamondsabout a month ago in Marriage
The Unsent Confession
Mark was digging through the junk drawer in the kitchen. Not really digging, more like excavating. Years of forgotten keys, dried-up pens, crumpled receipts from hardware stores and takeaways, a single dice from some board game they hadn't played in a decade. Dust motes danced in the slivers of afternoon light cutting through the window above the sink, illuminating the detritus of their shared life. He was supposed to be looking for that tiny screwdriver Sarah needed for her reading glasses, but mostly, he was just procrastinating, enjoying the quiet hum of the fridge and the faint, almost nostalgic, smell of burnt toast from breakfast.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Marriage
The Glint of Dust and Memory
Margo’s hands moved over the counter, muscle memory making the coffee. Two scoops for her, three for Arthur, just like always. The house was quiet, that morning quiet that had settled into their lives like a fine layer of dust on everything. Not heavy, not oppressive, but present. She could feel it in the air, the way the light from the kitchen window caught the motes dancing in the stillness. Another Tuesday. Another sunrise that promised nothing new, just another day to navigate.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Marriage
Whispers in an Ancient Library
Elara traced the spine of a book, her finger leaving a pale line in the thick dust. Her arthritis hummed a low complaint in her knuckles, a familiar ache. Another Tuesday afternoon in the stacks. Thomas, her husband of forty-two years, was a shadow at the far end of the aisle, lost in the brittle pages of some medieval tome. The air in the old city library was always the same: dust motes suspended in the weak light from the tall, arched windows, the faint, comforting scent of aging paper and something else, something metallic and cold, like forgotten iron. She’d come here every Tuesday and Thursday since she retired, not because she loved the musty quiet, but because he was here. He always was.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Marriage
The Glass Below
The resort suite was too quiet. Too plush, too perfect, another stage set for a life they didn't live anymore. Sarah picked at a loose thread on the expensive duvet cover, her gaze fixed on the endless turquoise spread of the Caribbean outside the oversized window. Fifteen years. Fifteen years since the day she'd convinced herself Mark was the one, since she’d seen a future so bright it hurt her eyes. Now, the glare off the water just made them ache.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Marriage
Moon-Dusted Floors
The house was settling in for the night, groaning its old bones. Sarah stacked the last plate in the dishwasher, the machine’s hum a dull throb against the quiet. Mark was in the living room, a silhouette against the blue glow of the television, a sports game he wasn’t really watching. They’d barely spoken since dinner, not out of malice, just a tired sort of silence that had become another piece of the furniture, heavy and always there. She dried her hands on a dishtowel that had seen better days, smelling faintly of lemon cleaner and the chili they'd eaten.
By HAADI2 months ago in Marriage
The Unwinding
Arthur wrestled the damn thing through the doorway, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The grandfather clock was taller than him, dark oak, ornate, and smelled faintly of dust and forgotten cigars. It was another one of his 'finds,' dragged home from a dusty estate sale he’d sworn was going to yield a fortune. Clara stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. "Another relic, Art? What’s this one supposed to do, tell us it's time for the apocalypse?"
By HAADI2 months ago in Marriage
The Ghost of Ballynahown
Eleanor folded laundry, the familiar smell of fabric softener clinging to the clean cotton, but her mind drifted. Not to the kids' school forms, not to the grocery list tacked to the fridge. To the salt spray of Ballynahown. Mark’s Ballynahown. She’d never set foot on that rocky shore, never felt the wind whipping off the Atlantic that he swore tasted different, colder, cleaner. But she knew it. Knew the way the low, winter light hit the thatched roofs, saw the faint sheen of rain on the cobblestones, heard the distant, mournful cry of gulls. It was a place she’d built, brick by imaginary brick, from Mark’s stories.
By HAADI2 months ago in Marriage