I dug up this photo of my folks because I wanted to write a schmaltzy tribute to my mom, who despite my best efforts to DO IT ALL MYSELF because I am a bossy toddler at heart, has relieved me of a litany of tiresome wedding chores this past week.
But then I did some sleuthing. Mom and Dad are chilling with their newborn nephew, my cousin Andy, which dates this photograph to late summer of 1982. This means that they are newlyweds here, having married that May. My dad is a year younger here than Nick is now.
My peers anguish about being less adult than their ideal. I feel like "grown-up" can't take a comparative; you can't be more or less of it than other adults. If your car's floorboards are carpeted with empty pop bottles, if you don't have any savings, if you eat cake for dinner - sorry, but you're an adult just as a homeowner or a parent is an adult. (This approach was borne of years of declaring myself "not a real person" every time I slept past noon or wore swimsuit bottoms as underwear because I couldn't be bothered to do laundry.)
That said, when I look at this picture, I still think, "Man, they were 'real' adults when they got married."