|This good? Not gonna ask, tbh.|
Aside: No one said OMG in 1990, because nobody spoke Internet back then. Also, squee was not yet a word. They were harsh, unenlightened times.
|We didn't even know what memes were.|
So there was some discussion on Facebook about marriage licenses and what people do with them. Some people frame theirs, did you know that? It never occurred to me to frame mine. Some places must have prettier marriage licenses than others. In Milwaukee County (where I got married), marriage licenses have all the aesthetic appeal of a mandatory sexual harassment training course certificate of completion.
The discussion, however, made me realize something.
I've been divorced for two months and 11 days as of this writing. As many of you know. And I owe you guys a post on this strange feeling I've been experiencing over the last couple of weeks. I believe it's called happiness. I may need to let that gel for a few more days.
Anyway, here's what I realized.
When I moved into my apartment last October, I gathered up all my important papers - my birth certificate and Precocious Daughter's, the loan paperwork for my car, the password to my U.S. Savings Bond account, etc. - and placed them in a kind of box/portfolio/case thing. They're all together and safe, because Divorced Chuck is a lot more organized and responsible than Married Chuck ever was.
In that box/portfolio/case thing is my marriage license.
Of course. I was still married last October, technically speaking. Who knows, I might have needed to prove my marital status to...someone. Somewhere. Bottom line, I was married, so a marriage license remained among my vital documents.
So where does that leave me vis a vis my marriage license?
What the hell do I do with it?
Keep it as a memento of happier times?
Keep it as a reminder of my abject failure at that whole "til death do us part" thing?
Keep it for PDaughter, who might someday consider it a keepsake from her childhood?
Do I toss it?
Because it's been legally invalidated.
Because what God hath brought together actually has been torn asunder, and for good.
Because I'm no longer married and therefore have no need of the document that proved I was, at one time, married.
Do I decoupage it onto a TV tray?
Do I place it at the bottom of my Siamese kitten's litter box?
Do I simply hang on to it, because that small piece of paper defined me for 25 years, more than half my life, and so it's kind of important?
I don't know. At all.
Keep, toss, use as art supplies?
Ideas are welcome.
Thanks in advance.