My mother married in emerald green, which is apparently bad luck. Years later the dress was cut up and the fabric used to make clothes for my dolls.
Twenty nine years and four living children and one deceased child later my parents finally divorced. I said to my mother that if she was unhappy with dad, why did she have four children.
To which she replied that when you have children you at least know that someone will love you.
I found that comment terribly heartbreaking.
But she was right, we do love her.