My marriage to Jerry lasted for 32 years, ended by his sudden death, which I’d call a mid-duration relationship. A long marriage, for me, has to top 40 years.
Having breakfast at my favorite morning spot, I noticed two older couples getting settled at their table — spouses, I’m sure. I’d say they were in their 80’s, but maybe 70’s and not much effort at staying fit. They had gray hair. The men had paunches, and the women flabby arms and flowered cotton tops over their brightly colored stretch pants . They sat, accepted the offer of coffee, then studied the menu. Then, their orders given, each of the four looked off in a different direction. They didn’t seem to be watching anything; rather, each had a kind of fixed, empty stare. If they were younger, they might have been on cell phones. What they clearly weren’t doing was talking. They didn’t say a word until their food arrived, then each bent separately to concentrate on the meal.
I didn’t have a long marriage, so I wonder about it. I wonder if it can get boring, if you simply lose the thread of shared conversation and cease to talk?
Sometimes, I think it happens.