For a long time I’ve wondered what to do with my wedding dress. It had severe mildew stains so it was unwearable. And certainly since the divorce it seemed like something that I would never want to wear again. I kept pulling it out of the closet and looking at it, wondering if I should simply toss it. But I kept thinking that it would work far better to do some sort of art project with it. I loved the dress and its simple lace–a reproduction of an Edwardian garden party dress. The ‘romantic’ within me knew that I couldn’t simply cast it into a trash bin.
At the same time, I’ve been yearning for some sort of ritual to bring closure to my marriage. I had planned some spectacular way to throw my wedding rings into the Back Bay, but it just didn’t feel right. So it seemed more apropos to use the dress for my ritual. And I also knew that it needed to involve the ocean. My ocean. My beach. Near where John proposed and where we created all of our family memories of the Balboa FunZone, kayaking, and bonfires. As these ideas percolated around in my brain, a plan came together. And a photographer-friend was as delighted to be a part of this ritual as I was to perform it.
That we did this the day after the tsunami, when the ocean water was still roiling with storm, was coincidence that turned into something meaningful. The currents came from Japan and touched our shores–just as in my cross-cultural marriage to a Japanese-American man. All of that connecting, all tugging at each of us, all testifying to the sometimes-destructive tide of relationships pulling us towards each other and then apart again…
I thought this might be a somber occasion. I thought I might cry, or even feel loss and anger. Instead, I was ebullient. Emerging feeling washed clean of the ugliness that came from the end of my relationship. Stepping out of the sea alone and full of joy, flower petals scattered along my path…
[flickrslideshow acct_name=”pilgrimgirl” id=”72157626352812872″]