Back when I was still married to my first wife and my eldest daughter was still a toddler, I attended a wedding in Long Island. I was at an age in my life where there was nothing unusual about attending weddings. I was going to an Episcopalian church where many people my age were getting married. As good Episcopalians we were used to boldly proclaiming the affirmation when we were asked if we would do all in our power to support the new couple.

Most of us moved on from those days in New York City and I wonder how many of my friends are still married and how well all of us have done in our support of these couples.

I had gotten married a few years earlier and like so many people my married life mirrored the married life of my parents. I don’t remember seeing much joy or tenderness in my parent’s marriage and I suspect that neither my ex nor I look back at our marriage as having much tenderness or joy. It isn’t surprising that both my marriage and my parent’s marriage ended in divorce.

The wedding on Long Island could have come straight out of the social register. Two young and extremely successful Wall Street professionals, with great lineage, were getting married at one the finest country clubs on Long Island. So, there I was, a child of Ethan Frome attending a Great Gatsby wedding.