Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday: Different Doesn’t Mean Wrong

A black and white photograph of my maternal grandparents hangs on the wall in my parents’ living room. In the picture my grandfather stands handsome in pin-stripes, a white corsage pinned to his lapel. In front of him, their shoulders barely touching, is my grandmother. Her floral hat is angled just so, her porcelain skin framed by a spray of ribbons and gladiola across the shoulder of her suit.

It’s their wedding portrait, but there’s no tuxedo, no white dress, no lace-trimmed veil. On the da...