I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of “alone.” It is pretty central to my existence today - even when I have people around. It has also made me think a lot about how there are concepts that we spend our whole lives thinking we understand and then a significant event, like the loss of a spouse, happens and we gain a new and deeper understanding. I’ve also realized that I am more empathetic toward individuals experiencing events that leave them “alone” (divorce, bad breakups, miscarriages) than maybe I was in the past.
Even though I am blessed with a large, tight-knit, Catholic family, this is not the first time I’ve lived alone or been on my own. I was single for quite a while before Chuck and I married. I was really excited when I arrived in Rome during Junior Year Abroad to have my own bedroom for the first time in my life! And, while I never loved travel away from the girls and Chuck, there were definitely days that a night alone in a Westin Heavenly Bed was …. well, pretty heavenly. And, of course, I knew I would be a form of “single” again after Chuck died. However, there are dimensions to this “aloneness” that is unexpected and for the most part, unwelcome.
I think one of the new “alone discoveries” is a realization of the depth and breadth of ways - emotional and practical - that I had built my life reliant on Chuck. I’ve already mentioned the many things he taught me about farming and living on a large piece of land. And in my good moments, I deeply appreciate the attaboys and admiration for all that I am doing. But there are a lot of things - practical things - I ignored that are central to our lifestyle. Some I vaguely noticed but didn’t fully appreciate, some I totally missed and others fall into the ‘what you need to know if this happens’ camp. Given that this is New England and therefore the pace of life on a farm picks up fast with the growing season around here, it should not have surprised me (but it has) that the last few days and weeks have brought many of these discoveries. Here are just a very few: what if the grass/hay in a paddock grows too fast & is no longer mowable? What if the deck on the lawnmower seems too low? What if the check engine & the battery light come on in the dead, 2020 Subaru at the same time - ask Triple-A to jump your battery or tow you (Yes, Chuck has us as “Premiere” members on auto renewal - when I called today I found out we are in our 17th year!)? How did we plant the ParkSeed dead-looking strawberry plants - root-looking things in the soil or above? If caterpillars are infecting the trees on the mountain just south of us, should I bring the orange tree inside? These are just a few of the practical ones ….
Then there is how feeling helpless with tasks you know need to get done - endless weed whacking, fencing off berry bushes, more mowing - makes you feel when it all falls on your shoulders. I really don’t want to need anyone else. I am not ready to ask people - any more than I already have, and most of that was set up when Chuck was sick - to take on more of the stuff that Chuck did. I do have his nephew doing weekly mowing. But asking anyone to do any of this other stuff that I know needs to get done - stuff that may either be beyond my abilities or just too time-consuming - feels traitorous now. Like I think I can replace him or I am not quite as strong and up to the job as I need to be. I know this is dumb. And this may well be one of those things that is a true “Jane” issue not a “Black Swan” issue. I am the person whose first full sentence was, “Mom, I do it myself.” If other spouses feel similarly about finding someone else to take on the jobs their much-loved partner performed, I wonder if they also take it as a personal failing that they can’t do everything their spouse did and keep doing what they did? Like, I feel the need to be Ginger Rogers & Fred Astaire (if you understand the analogy).
Most would describe me as a fairly strong and accomplished woman and I seek to reinforce that perception. So, the other battle I am fighting between my ears (and this post won’t help) is the frustration with being perceived as sad or pathetic - and being ‘alone’ as a woman, young or old, creates that perception even without these angsty posts. Yet, this past weekend while at my college reunion I had moments of carefree fun and joy. (There, I said it - in case you missed the pictures which DID speak 1k words) Yet, returning home - and having the most MONDAY of MONDAYS ever, I felt guilty. Certain God was punishing me. I wasn’t particularly thrilled, in retrospect, with playing the “merry widow” either. Is there any persona that feels right? No. And that, ultimately, despite the college BFF who flies out from San Diego to come to reunion weekend, the BFF cousin visits, and on & on (blessings basically out my ears) is where the most powerful sense of aloneness emanates. All these things I can’t do, don’t want anyone else to do; all these roles I no longer am: all these new personas that just don’t feel right - all of this creates a feeling of isolation even when I am so blessed to be surrounded by supporting and loving family & friends. Even now, the only thing that I can imagine that feels ‘right’ is the one thing I can’t have: the past.
When I read this morning’s reflection I wasn’t sure if the focus on being alone should make me feel reassured? “Hey, this must be what everyone feels at almost six months!” Or frightened, “Oh no, more of THIS?” There are times when the alone is a relief, to be sure. No pretending. No hiding the tears. No one to be embarrassed by my weakness. But ‘relief’ is not exactly a state I aspire to be in forever. Yet, for now, it is the best one I can think of. And, most often, it happens when I am alone. Yes, surrounded by memories.
Alone
Everything Michael Horn said...Your courage and strength to write and release to all of us is remarkable and incredibly giving...and hopefully also makes you feel a little less alone in some way...xo
I learn so much from each of your posts. About you, about loss and love, about the human condition, and about humanity. This isn't your primary intent, but your writing shows your strength and is its own act of selflessness for all of us.