My daughter Hosanna already has a good job. Her apartment is in one of the pricier areas of Philly and she dances three times a week. She has a trendy wardrobe, and travels internationally. But she wants to go to grad school. 

I don't really understand why a university would turn down anyone who is willing to fork over a quarter of a million dollars, stoop over books for twenty four months, and hustle to satisfy an armada of Ivy League professors' fleeting demands. But they do. Yet Hosanna was plucked from a stack of applications submitted by razor sharp millennials, and has been granted the elite opportunity to fork, stoop and hustle at Yale.  

There seems to be no shortage of lofty and exhausting goals out there. Athletes, academics, and artists pin their sights on ever more distant finish lines. They make significant sacrifices to do it, too. To understand why would involve three senses at least... listening, watching, and feeling what another person cares about. 

Something is lost when marriage and weddings become interchangeable. A ceremony can be a legitimate bucket list item, that can be checked off when the linens are washed and the last thank you note is mailed. But a vibrant marriage is a goal that keeps me hiking, and stooping over books, and shelling out effort. And I am not even a razor sharp millennial.