Marriage, my father used to say, is an institution, usually pausing for a moment before adding his little joke – “And who the hell wants to live in an institution?” Well, apparently, he did. He was married to my mother for more than 40 years until his early death, and as far as I could tell very happily, despite the inevitable ups and downs.

Perhaps it was my parents’ example – and love, of course – that encouraged me to marry at the age of 23. We have remained married for the past 48 years, with no regrets, but nowhere near the length of time necessary to receive the murmurs of approval and congratulation that often come on television programmes when elderly couples reveal a union of 60 or more years. This week, I attended a 100th birthday lunch for a friend who had been married for 70 years until the death of his wife; lots of murmurs of approval and congratulations there.

The Telegraph London