Marriages need breathing space to survive

Is the concept of companionship in old age now slowly getting replaced with freedom at twilight?

February is a good month to take stock of relationships, especially the conjugal one for those who are already hitched. The roses and red hearts are only recent additions to the old tradition that saw young hearts in love grow old together till death does them part. In rain or shine or in ambiguous times, the vows remain as if bound by divine ordain. There is something serene about watching old couples walk with unsure steps in a park, almost ready to offer a hand should one of them trip or falter. There is a seasoned rhythm in their relationship, one that must have come over years of efforts to keep the bond from fraying. It seems like a picture from a romantic novel where the couple walked into the sunset holding hands and whispering promises in the wind.
However, I am beginning to wonder if somewhere in the course of time, things have begun to change with senior couples becoming more open about their differences in the grey years and seeking space that they were hitherto denied owing to domestic pressures to which they were unequivocally committed. With more cases of silver splits and cordial separations coming to the fore, one is left with questions about matrimonial equations in the veteran years that we so blindly believe are smooth and without pitfalls to have survived the antics of time. Is the concept of companionship in old age now slowly getting replaced with freedom at twilight?
I was raised in a setting that views marriage sacred and indissoluble. But now aligned to the idea of divorce as an inevitable means to escape the pain of festering relationships (like surgery, as an old friend once alluded), curious thoughts about how evened up old couples are in their relationship and how they cope with the differences are surfacing in my mind. It would be foolhardy to presume that all geriatric relationships are without friction and in sync with the laid down rules for happy matrimony. Beneath the layers of seeming calm achieved by adherence to old social norms, will there be a disquiet that no one can fathom? Some recent encounters make me wonder if there are stories of marriages out there that even after all this time are just getting by and not living it up fully. The initial years of blinding passion have passed, the middle years of obligations are over too. The children have left the nest, the toil of earning has ground to a halt, the pace of life has slackened and there is time left to bide. Things that were ignored in the hurly-burly phase of life now emerge as major irritants, for preoccupations are less and there is more time to ruminate. She has her unique interests and he his eclectic whims. She likes the television and he likes to hang out with old mates in the club or the park. For the socially upward wife, kitty party is priority and to the more sublimated man, books are where the joy lies. He is a writer and she is alien to his creative instincts. Or vice versa. Suddenly they realise that they are poles apart and they have nothing in common except a penchant for bickering over trivialities. Could this be a real situation in the lives of hundreds of seemingly placid senior couples?
I have personally heard about two instances of silver separation where the couples consented to part happily, now that all duties were done and there was no emotional or financial dependence on each other. They realised their need for space to lead their own lives, follow their interests without interference and complete their individual innings in a manner they have always cherished. It made me realise that as individuals joined by marriage, each person has distinct choices and interests that are often suppressed in the name of love and in the interest of the relationship. In the misplaced belief that towing the line alone can see them through, do couples really shortchange themselves to the point where they are in the relationship only because they have become habituated to it? Is giving space to each other not possible even when we are in our prime so that when we hit the twilight, we still run like railway tracks, parallel yet together, not clashing into each other?
Not having reached that point where I can give a personal view on the nature of marital affiliations in old age, it is only possible for me now to throw questions and wait for answers to emerge as time passes by. But the cues are clear. As Khalil Gibran said, "Let there be spaces in your togetherness. For the pillars of the temple stand apart and the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow."
Asha Iyer Kumar is a Dubai-based writer