Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Hey, Judge My Memories, OK? (Updated)

Note: I've made a few edits since posting this last night, because it sort of read like something a drunk person might have written. For some reason.

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I've been struggling with what to write about tonight.

I've decided to simply relate an anecdote.

In January 1992, my sister-in-law got married. I was a member of her wedding party.

Completely unrelated, but the Obamas
also married in 1992. So cute, they are.
The wedding was modest and low-key, which made it a lot of fun. And my SIL's wedding party had a simple mandate: to wear a black dress of our choosing, which would be tied together via a tartan sash, in honor of the bride's Scotch-Irish heritage.

And for decades I've kept the tartan sash as a cherished memory of that day.

Apparently my camera didn't like the shine from the
taffeta fabric. It's much prettier than it photographs.
But now it's 2015. My marriage to SIL's brother is over. I'm shedding all the extraneous possessions I can so I can move on.

And oh, did I mention that SIL surgically removed me from her life as soon as she heard my spouse and I were separated?

Yep.

So now I'm cleaning house - physically and psychically - ahead of my impending divorce.

I am keeping things of emotional value, I proimse.

But I need some advice on this front. 

SIL and her husband cut me out of their lives - and the lives of their wonderful sons, my nephews - after the separation. Without ever hearing both sides of the story. Presumably without ever thinking about the 20+ years of history we had, as relatives and friends.

Which included her husband - my brother-in-law - trying to get into my pants for basically the entirety of their marriage, but I guess some things you can put into boxes and some things you can't.

Still, we had a lot of wonderful times together. Although she claimed to my spouse later that she never liked me and thought we shouldn't get married. But still asked me to be a bridesmaid. Boxes.

Question: Do I keep the sash because it represents an indelible and still-cherished memory in my life?

Or do I chunk it, because fuck the haters who don't even think I exist any more because they don't know the whole story and never will?

You can see how I'm torn.

Your input is welcome. Keep the sash, discard the sash, burn the sash with righteous fire?

Honestly, I'm leaning toward fire. Or giving it to Precocious Daughter.

Commence judging.

3 comments:

  1. Keep the sash--but turn it into something else. Cut the fabric and fold it into a rosette brooch. Make it a bandana. This is my thought: the memories surrounding the sash are complicated, and events have transformed the memory associated with it. Transform the sash.

    You can sew, and if this is what you choose to do I'd love to see the result. And please share what you ultimately decide, because whatever your decision--keep, destroy, give away--it will be the right one.

    ReplyDelete
  2. What Christopher Waldrop said. I would add, don't feel the need to build a shrine to your past. It's a shame that former SIL cut you off, but don't give the sash more power than it deserves. It's a thing, and no thing is more important than your well-being.

    Have you considered cutting out letters to spell B-I-T-C-H in tartan in and mailing to her?

    ReplyDelete
  3. Fire sounds good to me. I wouldn't want it around, myself.

    ReplyDelete

You're thinking it, you may as well type it. The only comments you'll regret are the ones you don't leave. Also, replies to threads make puppies grow big and strong.