A Day Not to be Remembered

Today would have been my 27th wedding anniversary.  Twenty-seven years.

After all that has happened, and after finding out who/what I had really married, can my wedding day still be the happiest day of my life?

Call me crazy, but I think it can.

Looking back (even without my rose-colored glasses on), I was the happiest I have ever been on July 14, 1990. I was filled with hope for a wonderful future with the man I loved. We were surrounded by the people most important to us, supported by their love and kindness. From walking down the aisle at about 11:00 in the morning to finally heading back to my new home with my new husband in the wee hours of the following day, I was happy.

Though the events of the last 4 years have certainly taken the shine off my marriage overall, the darkness of the divorce hasn’t dimmed my wedding day itself all that much.

I’ve heard many of my fellow divorcees mutter the phrase “I wish I had never married him” when they talk about their former husbands. I have never said that – not even in my most angry or hurt moments. Is that crazy? Some of my friends would say, “Um, yeah.” I honestly don’t know why I can’t bring myself to hate my ex-husband enough to wish I had never married him.

I do, however, wish I could forget the significance of July 14. Every time July 14th shows up on the calendar I think, Oh, that’s my wedding day. Then I remember this particular day is not worth celebrating anymore. The events of my divorce, and the behavior of my ex-husband during the last few years of our marriage, has tainted the actual date and will most likely affect every July 14th from here on out.

Since I now consistently use a memory filter called “After Divorce,” I have noticed my wedding day memories include my ex-husband less and less. Instead of remembering how he looked or what he was doing, as I might have done before, now those memories are filtered through my view of the day. I recall my bridesmaids and I getting ready in the basement of the church, and my parents getting teary-eyed as they walked me down the aisle; and even the fight that broke out over my poorly thrown bridal bouquet at the reception.

Each year I move beyond my divorce brings another degree of separation. I hope it will influence my memory of July 14, so eventually I may forget the significance of the day altogether. Maybe then I’ll stop dwelling on the fact I am no longer married every time July 14 rolls around.

In deciding which pictures to use for this post, I thought about including photos from my wedding day, but just couldn’t bring myself to go downstairs and search through “The Tub.” The Tub is a storage container where I keep all my scrapbooks and photo albums, including my Wedding Album. Instead, I chose a soft and pretty picture characteristic of weddings that haven’t been tarnished.

Maybe my Wedding Album needs to remain a buried time capsule – one that might even be unlocked and looked upon fondly later down the road.

Just not yet – and not on July 14th.