SOMETIMES you suddenly and for no reason think of people you haven’t seen in years, the friends that drifted away. Recently, I was thinking about a family that used to live on our street. They moved to a nicer neighborhood a few miles away — oh, boy, it was about 15 years ago — and we gradually lost touch.

I was thinking about her, the mother of two boys roughly the same age as our boys. I always liked her. “Maybe I will knock on their door,” I thought. “I’ll just show up and say, ‘Remember me?”

But I decided to check on the Internet. A little research revealed that they are no longer living in that neighborhood, in the beautiful stone house with the pool and a garden out back. The wife lives about 15 miles away and the husband lives about three miles away with his second “wife.”

This was heartbreaking news, and for two days I could not shake the sadness.

On our street, more of the couples we have known have divorced than have stayed together. This particular couple were what my husband would call “puzzle pieces” — people who were meant to be together like pieces of a puzzle.

Walking through our neighborhood — and practically any neighborhood in America — is like walking through ruins. Over there is the bombed out post office. Over there the church without windows and a door. Then there’s the house with no roof and two walls.

These are are the ruins created by divorce.

Sure, life goes on. It goes on for everyone. I have no judgments to offer of the parties involved. How can I know what transpired? I have only sorrow.

Maybe the couples are “happy,” happier than they ever were when they were together, but reality is not determined by feelings. Their marriages aren’t really over. They are just in ruins.

People think marriage is a relationship. Well, it is, but it’s much more than that. People think marriage is something you “work at,” well, it is, but it’s much more than that and no amount of “work” can get to the heart of it. People think marriage is something that exists between two people. Well, it does, but every marriage is a social bond that extends far beyond two people alone.

Marriage is a mystery. It’s something not entirely within our comprehension or control. Individuals run into disaster when try to control or master that which cannot be controlled or mastered. You can’t master a mystery. We are not the authors of marriage anymore than we are the authors of our DNA. Those who think they must completely master their marriages or they must leave are like wacky scientists who think they can create life in test tubes. They are playing god. They are guilty of human vanity.

Sometimes a couple must live apart, but that doesn’t end the reality that is their marriage.

Marriage is created mysteriously by God when two people willingly make their vows. It’s a supernatural house, a structure that no human beings can tear down. We can only reduce the outer shell to ruins.

I fondly remember those buildings once standing on our street. I vividly recall every single one. Maybe my secret vocation is to remember when everyone else has forgotten.

I remember the particular “house” created by the couple I mentioned. In my mind, that house is still standing, giving the neighborhood a sense of wholeness and security, not just for children but for adults too. That wholeness is part of the mystery of marriage, a bond that holds far more than two together.

— Comments —

Caryl Johnston writes:

Beautiful reflections on marriage. You are so right, it is so much more than just a “relationship.” Rosenstock-Huessy wrote some interesting things about marriage, which I will try to find. The gist is that the children of a marriage are “free” in the sense that the parents chose to restrain themselves, to forsake living a life without consequences. It goes back to Roman times. Certainly marriage is one of the pillars of society and should not be trifled with. But everything today in this sad USA is broken, a caricature of itself. I don’t know what I’d do without my small circle of kindred souls.

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