There’s been only two times in my life where I felt like a rock star. Those times when everybody loves you, has all eyes on you and hangs on your every word.
The first was in the 6th grade when I won the Charlotte Elementary School Stomper Pull-Off (click the link if you need a reminder) after my mother surprised me with a silver, snub-nosed Peterbilt Stomper 4X4 that yanked its entire weight in nails, screws, and washers on a make-shift sled. On that day, obviously not being able to see me in the next row over in Mrs. Heath’s class any other time, Tammy Moneypenny finally talked to me.
The other was my wedding day.
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The culmination of nine-months preparation replete with two open bars, DJ, 5-course meal, and a hundred or so of our closest friends and family was the stage for the event. The last addition to these nuptials was a lone photographer whose duty it was to get the bride and groom in as many photos as possible without earning the label paparazzi.
Little could our photographer have imagined that all of her just-one-mores, over-to-the-lefts, and scooch-in-a-littles would end up being part of the mine and her discussion a few years later.
Walk into any married couples home and you’re quick to recognize a wedding photo as the staple of the home décor strategy. From the obnoxious 28x36 photo-shopped canvas hanging over the mantle, to the mundane dollar store binder on the end table, showcasing outdated wedding dresses, blue cumberbuns and hideous brides maid attire is a cultural tradition.
But what happens to these memories should the bride and groom’s vows change from “I do” to “I don’t”?
As the Jap and I were splitting up the martial assets, when it came time to discuss the wedding albums (notice the plural) I immediately took one for the team and cheerfully traded my portion for some drinking glasses and a paper-towel rack. I was all for using the prints to start a bond-fire in the middle of the den as sacrifice, but she thought otherwise and, as far as I know, still has them all to this day.
But why would anyone want them?
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Much like the engagement ring whose original purpose has vanished, wouldn’t wedding photos seem to fall in that same category? Don’t they represent a time when feelings where far different, when emotions where love and respect instead of hate and contempt? If so, then what’s the reason behind keeping them after a divorce?
There seems to be no rationale behind who gets them and who doesn’t. I know some divorces where the guy got them and others where the woman, who asked for the divorce, kept them. But either way it’s like continuing to wear your uniform from that McDonald’s job you had in high school.
And what happens if you get married again. Do they get pulled out after one too many Cabernets for a trip down memory lane? How would the new partner feel to know that the love of their life has kept memories from time past that didn’t include them? Or is it a sort of long shot bet just in case someone decides to rekindle old flames?
Does it change things if there were children? Would the kids want to keep pictures of their parents failed marriage? Are they going to put them on the end table in their apartment?
As you might have guessed, I say they get trashed or put into a garage sale, maybe you’ll see yourself on the wall of a Cracker Barrel one morning over a plate of eggs and sausage.
Originally published in 2010