I have always treasured and fiercely defended my alone time. Revelled in the luxury of it.
But this is the first time i have been truly alone, without friends and neighbours and colleagues dropping in, for work or fun, shared meals or walks, been without meetings and greetings every day or two.
First time alone without my partner – in the bush, on the lighthouse, never really alone. Pissed off, driven crazy sometimes, yes, but for sure not alone. Folks, if you have people living with you, you are not isolated. Give up that guff.
It is also the longest time i have been unable to see my love in the care home. I know some day i will never see him again, but that will be goodbye. Closure, at least, no matter how hard and bitter. Over, at least on the physical level.
And maybe at that time i can go out and about again. In fact, i will, no matter the covid situation, because it will not matter anymore.
But now, while my friends gather and share, I remain clostered, trying to make it feel like a mission instead of madness. Waiting, because i fear not being allowed in to see him if I am careless. We have no idea what the rules will be when this cruel separation is over, but i feel the only thing i can do is guard myself, to guard him and all the others.
Meanwhile, and all this while, the world has gone on its merry way.
i do not see my friend who only sees her family … or my friend who is very careful but travels to see her family, or my friend who distances from her family but visits many others every week. Or my family here who have their own hard and busy lives. Etc etc etc
Now with summer we might be able to do the 6 feet thing, although my hearing and instincts are to be closer to people. An ape at heart, as we all are.
And now it is Mother’s Day. I have no children and my mother and father are dead, my brother and sister far away. The family i have here are my love’s family.
When i was very very poor – like can’t afford a dozen eggs because of the rent poor – Christmas was the hard time, to see all the people with big packages and bags containing stuff I could not imagine.
Now for the very first time, Mother’s Day is making me, a lucky and i think loved, well housed senior feel poor again. And very alone.