Finding Myself
A journey of retirement and widowhood
I’m living alone for the first time in my six decades on this planet. I left my parents’ home for married life, and then kids entered the picture. Even though I became single later in adulthood, I was still a mom.
The weekends when the kids were with their dad were my only chance for alone time. Still not comfortable in my own skin, I floundered a bit during those years. I didn’t know how to be with me. I didn’t know who I really was or who I might become. I was a bit lost.
I also felt unmoored when I wasn’t tethered to my kids. They were almost my entire life… almost. I had a job I loved too.
I ate out and went to movies solo back then. I remember my mother saying how sad that sounded. But it didn’t bother me. You don’t need company to stare at the big screen. I enjoyed reading a book over dinner when the kids were away, too.
Did you ever notice how kids turn into suns and we orbit around them, their activities, joys, emotional upheavals, and myriad struggles?
I remarried. Time passed. Empty nest syndrome kicked in and, well, I pretty much loved that. My husband and I got to spend more one-on-one time, and we orbited around each other. I became more grounded.
Then my husband was diagnosed with his first cancer. A second cancer. A third. And now he’s gone.
Don’t cry for me; it’s been over three years. I’m doing okay.
Well, except for later in the day. I still miss the struggle to find something to enjoy on TV together, discussing books, food, and the news of the day. My evenings used to be filled with a variety of caregiving duties. I was busy all the time. Evenings are just plain tough now as the hours loom before me like an empty sea where I’ll drift, unmoored from my husband. His empty chair no longer serving as the anchor that held me in place.
Most of my days have a new rhythm. My husband tied himself to the house and our pets, so I traveled with family and left him happy at home. He was so much better at being alone. Now, our dogs have overnight kennel experience and new walking routines. I watch TV programs at weird-for-me times, like movies during the evening news. I eat meals when I feel like it.
When I was young, my immobile sleeping pose amused my parents. Alone in the bed now, I use both pillows and cover most of the square footage through the night. I don’t even understand it! But I’m getting my necessary eight hours.
I am eating better and getting out on the hiking trails. I’m getting to know my next-door neighbor. Now, minor health matters receive the necessary attention. All good things for my physical and mental health.
I create a lot of to-do lists and I’m a pretty horrible boss to myself. Foolishly, I wondered earlier this week if two morning hikes would mess up the writing schedule I desperately need to resume. Sigh. See, I really must be better to that gal in the mirror. She’s been through a lot and could do with a slack day now and then.
I’m still early into this living-alone gambit to know if I would genuinely enjoy being a slacker. But I will give it a try—one day.
No one need ever know. Maybe I’ll just tell the next version of me I find.
I’m working on book five, but my debut historical fiction was a contest finalist, so maybe you should check it out — She Danced Anyway
Book 4 is a non-fiction Advent devotional called Wrapped in Wonder.
I didn’t meet and marry my David until 2006. I was born in 1957. You do the math. No children, and never a significant other. I spent 26 years in VA, far away from my family in Texas, running hard after God. I’m not much of a movie person, but I loved to eat out, and did so frequently. Alone, many times. And it didn’t bother me one bit. I also rode my touring bicycle or mountain bike all over the Atlantic seaboard. Or, like you, I hiked. Rarely with anyone else, not because I didn’t want company, but because I just didn’t have companions who were interested in 35 mile bike routes or traipsing across out-of-the way rail trails. I think we have more in common than not. Thanks for sharing your story. 😊