#615
A conversation with my cousin last year left me pondering deeply. He remarked, “You begin to truly understand the value, importance, and influence of your wife only after you approach 60. Until then, you think you can move on, manage, and get through life on your own. But as you age, you realise that you need her for everything—her presence, her thoughts, her advice. The very things you once dismissed become the pillars you lean on.”
This struck a chord, especially in recent months as I have reconnected with old friends and colleagues—men who, after decades of silence, now find themselves alone, their wives having passed away due to health issues. These are men in their 60s, trying to push life forward with tasks and distractions they would have never otherwise engaged in. Some have taken up gardening, others are scrolling endlessly through social media, while some immerse themselves in temple visits or club activities—not out of newfound passion but as a means to fill the void left behind by their lifelong companion.
One friend, who lost his wife two years ago, confided in me, "I never realised how much I relied on her until she was gone. I took her presence for granted, dismissed her concerns as nagging, and never truly acknowledged her sacrifices. Now, every quiet meal at home, every unattended festival, every casual joke I want to share but have no one to say it to—these moments remind me of what I lost."
The Agony of an Empty Nest
As if losing a spouse isn’t painful enough, many men also experience the empty nest syndrome in parallel. Children, who were once the centre of life, now live in distant cities or even different countries, absorbed in their own careers and families. As parents, we encourage their independence, but the reality of their absence is stark.
For years, the house was full of movement—school runs, college admissions, wedding preparations, visits from grandchildren. Then, one day, the home falls eerily silent. The same four walls that once echoed with conversations now hold only memories. And when your wife—your primary companion in this journey—is no longer around, the weight of solitude becomes even heavier.
A friend recently put it this way: "You sit at the dining table, and you remember how she always used to serve you first, how she reminded you to take your medicines, how she planned every festival, even if it was just the two of you. Now, you make a cup of tea for yourself, and it tastes different—not because of the ingredients, but because of what’s missing."
When Life’s Order is Reversed
Traditionally, society assumes that the husband will depart first, leaving the wife to continue the household. This is the run of play. The notion of a man navigating old age alone is often overlooked because men are rarely trained to manage the domestic, emotional, and social vacuum that follows.
But when a wife passes before her husband, the emotional toll is far more profound than many realise. Most men, especially of our generation, have lived their entire lives with their wife as the default companion—someone who remembered birthdays, packed medicines, handled relationships, and anchored the home.
Without her, life doesn’t just feel lonely—it feels disoriented.
A friend of mine, who lost his wife after 35 years of marriage, summed it up painfully: "I was always the tough one, the decision-maker. But now, I find myself staring at an empty bed, unable to sleep. I used to think she needed me more than I needed her. How wrong I was."
Cherishing What We Have, Before It’s Gone
Fortunately, in my own 35 years of marriage, Lalitha and I have nurtured mutual respect. We view each other’s opinions not as challenges but as alternative perspectives, always seeking a middle ground. Of course, disagreements occur—it would be unnatural if they didn’t! But even those occasional hiccups strengthen the bond, reminding us that individual identity within a marriage is as important as the togetherness it fosters.
And yes, I joke about the "40-year itch," which is just five years down the line! Perhaps every long-lasting marriage goes through phases of redefinition, but if the foundation is strong, you weather it together.
For those who still have the blessing of their wife’s companionship—pause for a moment. Look beyond the routine, beyond the familiar arguments and minor irritations. Because what may seem insignificant today might be the very thing you miss when the silence settles in.
Speak kindly. Appreciate more. Listen deeply. Love intentionally.
Because in the end, when life slows down and the distractions fade, the companionship of a wife is not just about shared responsibilities—it is about having someone who understands your unspoken words, who knows your history as well as you do, and whose presence makes the journey of aging a little less daunting.
Final Thought
As I see my friends struggling to fill the void, I am reminded that life does not wait for us to realise what truly matters. It gives us moments, every single day, to cherish what we have. Let’s not wait until it’s too late to value the love and companionship right in front of us.
Take care.
Karthik
7th Feb 2025
9am
The move, "About Schmidt" too, Triggered this post. ( I watched good decade back or so!)
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