We went to visit a relative for dinner this evening. During the course of the night, she decided to pull out old family photos to share with us. The one that was the most captivating was that of her parents' wedding photo, circa 1946. They were in their post-ceremony honeymoon clothes, hands clasped and both of them beautiful and radiant and full of hope. However, our relative commented that in her childhood, she had never known her parents to have exchanged civil conversation, and they never slept in the same bedroom, much less the same bed. Twenty-three years after their wedding, their contentious marriage ended in a bitter divorce.
Looking at that beautiful smiling couple, I felt a mix of emotions--bewilderment that such gorgeous, hopeful people could end up so utterly unhappy; sad that this had been the case; and grateful that my own marriage, despite its ups and downs, is still standing.
I'm not even sure why I'm posting about this. Lots of folks (many of whom have been relatives or good friends of mine) get divorced. It's not unusual. But I guess looking at that photograph, that snapshot in time of one couple's dreams for their future, was sobering upon knowing what happened to them.
That's all.
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