It used to be the only thing I worried about when attending a wedding was if my mom ironed my shirt and if my game boy had fresh batteries. I didn't have much vested interest in the actual marriage. They were my parents friends or my aunts and as long as I got some pigs in a blanket and a few cups of punch I considered the whole thing a great success.
Twenty years later I'm not sure my success standards are much higher. I'd prefer chicken marsalla to mini hot dogs and a glass of wine to punch. That being said, my connection to those getting married has increased substantialy. Now they're my friends, people I've shared life with in some form or another.
Even more odd is when these married couples come and ask my advice on something. Everything is so clear when your single. Or it seems to be. I have often thought things like, "why can't they see how they speak to eachother?" and "dude your not listening to her!" I nievly wonder how it could be so hard for married couples to just talk through things and come to logical reasonable solutions.
The truth is I know better. I've read a dozen or so books that tell me things like, mens ears are blue, and womens brains are like spaghetti, and they're both from different planets. Logical solutions don't really work though, not usually. We like the idea of a formula but when the equation is altered by sex, emotion, baggage, and hormones it gets pretty difficult to "solve" anything.
I was talking to an older married couple once about their "sucess" and how they achieved it. The man told me ,"you want to have a good marriage, get the first two out of the way." We laughed for a minute and then he leaned foward in his worn recliner and said, "If you always put the other person first you can't lose".
This sentiment has stuck with me for most of my adult life. I wonder if maybe it could be that simple. This idea of selflessness, or atleast an attempt to go in that direction. Two people putting eachother first, one day at a time. Because we all have baggage right? I got stuff. You got stuff. Now What?