This past weekend a generous grouping of extending family converged in the little town of El Granada near the San Franscisco Bay Area for the purpose of celebrating my grandparents’ 60th Wedding Anniversary.
I thought it was very interesting that the wedding dress was there for display. Not that that should be terribly unusual in itself, but I could swear one of the many family stories I heard when I was younger included a story about that dress. I can’t remember the exact details now, with many years between me and the telling, but it essentially came down to a long dispute with either the parents or the in-laws, but in retelling the unhappiness of the general wedding situation my grandmother was reported to have become so upset she tore up the wedding dress and used it later for rags. I heard this a long time ago perhaps as a preteen, but the image stuck with me.
I saw a folded ivory-colored dress on a chair in the old playroom where I was staying for my visit this time, and I wondered at it momentarily and then forgot it until we gathered at the venue and there was the dress draped over a chair for display at the far end of the room.
I commented on the story and no one seemed to know what I was talking about. How very strange!