my parents got married. They were just barely 19 (my father had just turned the day before; my mom a couple of weeks before that). I was already on the way and the reason behind the wedding (although apparently my grandparents on my mom's side were really cool in terms of supporting my mom and not pushing for them to get married; that was pretty good for 1966).
The marriage itself only lasted sixteen years, although that's longer than I would have expected. Every year I kind of mark it with a small pang of sadness, although in truth, despite the divorce's strong effects on my mom and me (I can't speak for my father), we came out so much better in the end. My mother has been married since (one short one, one in which she was widowed, and one now with the stepfather that I really wish were my own dad). I really am still dealing with enough issues from my childhood involving my father that frankly I think it would have been better not to have known him at all, but on the other hand, if that were the case, I'd probably be very different, and not quite me. I don't know. But I think overall all three of us were free to go forth and make lives for ourselves beyond what we had been living. Having been divorced myself--and agian, free from the stifling, surreal life I was living--I can't say divorce is bad. I'm glad it's an option. I'm glad I didn't have to break vows to get one (I pledged as long as love shall last, and if I ever by some miracle get married, I'll do so again). In most cases I think it's unreasonable to expect two people to live in harmony for the rest of their lives, although I admire those who do.
I don't really have a point to this post, just reminiscing, I suppose.
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