One of the hard things when your parents divorce (even when it happened in your mid-twenties, even when it was many years ago) is that it affects your family history. The sweet stories of how your parents met, fell in love, and got married become tinged with a little bitterness. I haven’t always known how to react when I come across wedding pictures or even old family photos. There’s always a little pang. But nine years later, it’s not quite as sharp and I’m even getting to the point where I can accept the sweetness of those early memories without much bitter.
On the way home from a viewing a couple of weeks ago (nothing like a viewing to give life perspective), I asked my mom about where they held their wedding reception. She gave approximate coordinates for the church and we decided to pay it a visit. Since it was a Sunday evening, there were lots of people at the church, which also meant that it was open. My mom had told me that it had stained glass windows, so we went inside looking for them. We couldn’t find any at first. The logical place was in the chapel but it was full of people and mom thought there were a few in the building. We went past several classrooms and the library and came across some kids playing the piano. Mom went in and asked them about the stained glass. They told us it was only in the chapel and that everyone was in there practicing for a musical performance. Since it wasn’t anything too spiritual, we decided to peak in. And there it was:
I wish we could have gotten a better look, but we did go out back where the patio was. My mom pointed out where all the tables were and the reception line.
At the time, these apartment buildings were being constructed.
It was a beautiful spot, and I could just picture that summer evening almost 40 years ago.
The neighborhood has changed since my parents held their reception there so many years ago. It’s a good reminder that everything changes. And that’s ok.