J's mother was an alcoholic who lived for holidays and football games and other excuses to drink in the daytime. Dad busied himself keeping an English sportscar on the road and a sailboat from sinking.
D's parents had separate bedrooms from when I met him in 8th grade. His mother was a dream killer and his father was an entrepreneur.
R's dad was the cliche stone cold Army colonel and his mother the neurotic 1950's housewife. After he died (ten years after we graduated) , she turned out to be a rather fun and interesting person and married J's father when the wife died of liver failure.
E's dad was a military doctor and her mother was a cliche officer's wife, right down to throwing her weight around on base. I never saw anything remotely affectionate or even caring between the two of them. He had his job and she had hers.
Jn's parents were closer to happily married than the others. His dad was a somewhat disagreeable but amusing city bus driver and his mother did something which made real money. They were Polish, and seemed to enjoy life somewhat.
Jl's parents were all show. Her father was a self proclaimed intellectual and author of military history textbooks. He wore banlon socks and crossed his legs like a woman.
The point is that all of these people had nice homes and the appearance of enduring marriages. What they actually had would fall under a variety of definitions which don't necessarily equate to marriage in my book but no one asked me for my approval. Get it? Didn't think so.