I just spent a week with the longest-married couple I know, my parents. The last morning I was there, my eyes fell on a pair of photos I've seen a million times, black-and-white shots of each of them when they were in their 20s. Aside from the fact that they were both drop-dead gorgeous, I was struck by their confident smiles.

Clearly there was nothing those two couldn't handle, including 59 years of marriage — and counting.

"I should have left him years ago," my mother said once. "But I didn't think y'all should be without your father."

Now she fears she set a bad example for me. I married a man much like my father, though my dad never drank to excess. And I remember being shocked when I noticed my easygoing brother behaving, with the woman he married (and divorced), much like our father, who never got over being an Army sergeant.

On the other hand, who knows? If they had divorced, maybe I would have been something like one of those confused teen mothers who had a baby in the belief that there would always be someone to love her.

As much as I once looked forward to having kids with Ed, I'm equally grateful now that our family consisted solely of animals. Anyone divorcing with children gets my special prayers.

If the Sondra I am now could advise my mother of 35 years ago, I think I'd tell her that the most important model she could have set for me was to be a happy person.

I married quite late.

I used to say that my mother was married and it didn't look like she was having much fun.

But marry I did, just like Mom, sort of. I realized early on in my separation that I needed to be careful not to divorce my husband just because my mother never divorced hers.

My visit back home reminds me that I should be equally careful not to stay married just because she did.