They don’t tell you about the things you missed. They won’t mention the impromptu mimosa toasts or the youngest cousin bawling in the corner. They won’t mention the sun glinting in the grass of the backyard, streamer strands floating gently in a summer breeze.
You know these are memories. Your memory will be different. Guilt and tears moving on a tandem bicycle. Pedal through. Click. They don’t tell you if it was good or bad or somewhere in between. They didn’t want to do it to begin with. They don’t tell you whether or not it was worth it, whether it was enjoyed, whether anyone took photos they can share with you the expressions on their face.
They don’t tell you.