As any parent of a teenager knows, however, unabated bliss is not the standard for year seventeen. Even in a home where there is always milk in the fridge and a car in the driveway, emotions can gyrate faster than a roller coaster at Dorney Park. Clashes erupt with the regularity of Old Faithful. Yet those moments of discord were discreetly left off the screen. Everyone in the theater has lived through them, but they were not invited to this particular party.

 

Perhaps we might be accused of rewriting history, when we are selective about the retelling. But I posit that the joyful experiences are more real than the fractious ones. John and I have weathered our share of misfortune, or at least I tell myself we have. At this moment, on a fresh morning in late spring, I can barely remember. 

 

When we cherry pick the memories of marriage it is not because the angst never happened, but because it isn't what we choose for our internal slide show.