Eleven years ago today, I got married.
Four years ago today, I faced my first January 9th as a newly single, brokenhearted person.
Today – for the first time – I returned to the scene of the crime.
I got married on a mountain, in the winter, surrounded by snow and a small group of close friends and immediate family. I got to ride on a snowmobile in my wedding dress. A resort manager offered champagne on the house to the wedding party while we prepared to take our photos. We hit the slopes and the hot tub afterwards to celebrate. It was a very joyful day.
Unfortunately, as Pixar so perfectly illustrates on Inside Out when the “joy” spheres change to “sadness” after a traumatic event, even the happiest memories can become the colour of sadness.
So today, with a couple of very special humans / “bubble” friends, I returned to the scene of the crime to make some new memories.
Place is a powerful thing, and some places hold memories so strong they can’t ever be erased or forgotten, no matter how painful they may become.
Thankfully places – like words, like people – can be reclaimed, restored, redeemed.
We can’t change old stories but we can write new ones.