I do not understand marriage, it occurs to me. I don’t understand why people want to be married, why they stay married, or what they get out of it.

That’s disingenuous of me. I admit it. I was married for 46 years, after all. To the same man, too. And our marriage lasted until he died. It was a good marriage, in most important ways.

But several conversations yesterday made me understand why I have a problem with the concept these days.

One conversation was with a friend of many years, who is on her own once again. She confesses that she seeks out “bad boys” and then gets disgusted with them. She asked me if I considered dating again, and I looked at her blankly as if the idea was bizarre. That was when I realized I don’t really understand the concept of romantic relationships any more.

Another conversation was with a family member, who is making plans under the assumption that she is going to have to be her husband’s caretaker as he fails, and she wants to make sure she is living somewhere she likes while she does it. She, like me, already took care of an elderly parent, so she knows what she’s in for. In our current society, family caretaking is brutal and devastating. Having a spouse helps the dying person but has the potential to destroy the living one.

There were a lot of marriage-related conversations yesterday. I chatted with a friend who is divorced, and who took steps after the divorce to make sure the house was in her name and the locks could easily be changed. I heard about someone else who kicked his girlfriend out and who is now facing her attempts to get back into the house. And I received a Christmas card from an acquaintance announcing that she had finally divorced her husband and had full custody.

Of course, marriage makes a lot of sense in some ways. It’s a pretty good way to arrange for the care of children, sometimes. I was terribly afraid that my husband would be a bad father in several ways when I decided to have a child, and I had good reasons to think that way. It worked out well, but I was prepared to leave him if I had to.

Marriage is pretty good financially, too. Sometimes. That is to say, I’m in good shape financially now that I’m widowed and retired, partly because of my husband. But mostly I’m in good shape because I realized I couldn’t count on him to provide for me. My nice solid 401K is all from my own job and my own regular contributions. The house is largely because of me, and because I insist on paying off my debts.

And of course there are the usual, assumed reasons: Companionship. Sex. Having someone to take care of you when you’re not well. Not being alone.

I will be candid: I miss having someone to talk to, to gossip with, and to figure out things with. And, as so often happens, he was the one who needed care at the end. But I am not particularly attracted to most men my age, who in my generation often are very poor at helping a woman enjoy herself physically. And I’d rather be alone than have to get used to someone whose tastes (in everything) I often don’t share.

I loved my husband, sure, but it was more important that I liked him, and that he liked me. That’s what I tell people who ask me if they should get married.

But I’m fine not being married, myself.

One other conversation I had made me realize that part of why I’m not seeing eye to eye with a lot of people about marriage is that other people don’t understand something different. They don’t understand they will be getting old. The conversation was with a friend in her early sixties who, knowing that I’m 74, said, “I’ll be candid with you. I can’t see myself living past 75.”

That’s not a long-term plan, I thought. It’s like not putting any money into savings for retirement because you think the world is going to end. What if the world doesn’t end? What if you live past 75? What if you are alone at the end? (And why on earth would someone say something like that to me? It’s not the first time.)

Anyway. She didn’t understand getting old, any more than I understand (any more) why anyone would get married.

We are all different people at different stages of our lives, even though we think we are the same person. And I am now a person who is happy in old age and who really doesn’t want to be married again.

At least that’s how I feel right now,