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"Greg is our real uncle, right?" My six and eight-year old grandsons, Collin and Liam, sit in front of their Honey Nut Cheerios and gaze up at me with wide eyes and open minds, ready to believe anything I say.

"No, Greg is your step-uncle. He's Steven's brother, and Steven is your step-dad. Your real uncle is Uncle Ken." How will they ever follow this? Their family tree would look more like a bush instead of a tree. I remember being confused when my own mother explained direct blood lines, never mind in-laws.

"You used to be married to Grandpa!" six-year-old Collin says.

"That's right."

"And you broke up." I can tell he feels good knowing what "broke up" means.

I nod.

"What happened?"

I stare at his beautiful, questioning face as I run words through my brain, all of which seem empty and meaningless. He's looking for something big. Something on the scale of why they had to haul Dumbo's mother away. She tore the circus up because people were laughing at her little big-eared baby. It was noble, and we cried for her as they were ripped apart.

I can't match that. I can't say to him, "I left your grandfather because he neglected me for too long. He forgot I existed as a human being. We were not a couple." I'm sure Disney could do something cute with it, but I'm not that creative on my feet. How do you explain "irreconcilable differences" to a child?

"I'll explain it to you one day," I say to them.

"One day when we're old enough to understand?"

Again I nod, but inside I'm thinking, "Yes, and when I'm old enough to understand it, too."

My mind pushes the automatic "play" button in that subconscious portion of the brain that continually seeks and questions. Why can't we keep relationships together? Were they meant to be this hard?

It isn't that 50 years ago people were any happier. They weren't! Many of them were miserable, too, but they kept their mouths shut and stuck it out. Alcoholism and domestic violence still took place, but everybody kept quiet about it. Misery existed in stoic silence, for the most part.

I don't know of any of my relatives that had happy marriages. One of my uncles shot himself when he was in his 70's and, quite frankly, I think my aunt was thankful. At least she didn't have to do it!

I read the other day that divorce is on the decline, but - they concluded - it's because marriage is, too! People just aren't getting married as much. What's the hurry?

Oftentimes the relationship is on the rocks before the photographer is paid for. So why not just throw a party

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