Alone.

It begins to wear on a person, this constantly being alone.

 I was reminded of it rather painfully tonight while putting the kitchen in order after dinner.  I feel the emptiness when I set the table and that one plate is missing.  And I feel the void when I wash the dishes, again,  by myself.  Used to be when I filled the sink with warm, sudsy water Bill would turn on some music (more often than not it was his play list not mine--ugh), reheat a cup of coffee, and then just sit and talk to me while I washed.  Sometimes he'd sweep the remnants of dinner off the floor and sometimes he'd field the requests from a kid in another part of the house.  Sometimes he'd dry.  But we always spent that time cleaning up the detritus of the day together.  And it was time filled with conversation, love, and contentment.

I'm reminded of how lonely I am now when I've just spent 4 hours mowing the yard or trying to figure out how to repair a leaky bathroom faucet.  When I go to pick up the phone and make that lunchtime phone call to share the happenings of my day, I am hit with the sadness that there is no one on the other end of the line.  I feel especially alone when I'm faced with the dailiness of parenting all of these kids.  Bad attitudes and behaviors, knowing how to help and encourage their choices as they mature, or even wrangling those who insist on making bedtime difficult, all rest on my shoulders.  There is no one else to share these burdens with and the loneliness is just intensified with each day.  Attending any sort of event by myself is just plain depressing.  I'm always the third wheel.  There is no one to tell my fears to.  No one to listen to my dreams even.  No one who's world exists in the exact same place as mine.

Yes, yes, I know I'm not the only single parent in the world.  Please, I'm not so insensitive or irrational to insinuate that I am the only person who lives with this plight.   But my reality remains different because my situation is different.  Hell, just look at some statistics on becoming a single parent via divorce vs. by a spouse dying.  You'll see then that my situation is dramatically different.  You see, I was happy in my marriage and was not craving any "alone time" or an escape from anything.  I actually liked to be with my husband way more than I wanted to be by myself.  And suddenly I was forced into creating a new life where I was always by myself.  I'm not so good at it.

I'm not really complaining.  I know that I have so many things to be grateful for.  My kids are all healthy and happy.  I have family and friends who I can ask for help and who provide me with excellent love and support.  I have opportunities to spend time with amazing people doing the things I love to do most:  fishing, drinking coffee (ok, or beer), Goodwill shopping, watching baseball, sharing a meal, running, playing cribbage, or just spending time laughing together.  It's all good and I am thankful for that.

But there is one thing that is missing and I cannot shake the feeling of it.  It's like there is always this shadow following me around, peeking around the corners at me and leering over my shoulder.  Some heavy feeling of dread (sadness? loss?  anger?) that settles itself in and around my heart that keeps me from feeling like I'm really living.

And there is no cure or escape.

Do you suppose you can ever get used to it?  And would you even want to?