I am not complaining. My family lives in California, and most of them have families of their own. I don't expect them to drop their lives and their family duties to come celebrate me. I don't want them to. I am content alone.
It wasn't always so. I lost my husband when my kids were all young, and as they grew, I began to dread the thought of living on my own. I didn't want them to stay with me forever, but I didn't know how I could handle life--special days--on my own. I felt abandoned. There were times when I was quite the baby about it. I know that I caused hardship for my children, since they sometimes felt that they needed to be two places at once. But for me, being alone meant that I'd failed. Everyone was a pair, right? My significant other had died, but surely someone would always be with me, right?
That began to change when I moved to Arizona. My youngest son moved with me, but we were alone. The was actually quite helpful to me. It allowed me years of transition--years to learn that being alone wasn't a punishment. I had chosen to do this. And having chosen, it was up to me to learn to be content.
It was hard at first. I spent more time on the phone with my daughter than I ever had before, and I am thankful for her understanding. She was going through a change as well, and I think we helped each other. As the years passed, I began to feel complete, just my son and myself.
I spend summers in northern California with my daughter, and this past summer, my son told me that he wanted to live with his sister. He was 22--it was time. He needed a transition, and being in California meant that he could get transitional help that he couldn't get here (my son has Asperger's Syndrome--a whole other subject). I felt good about the decision, since it was his decision. I knew that he needed to be his own person, and I doubted that he could ever do that living with me, but I was glad that the desire came from him. But once I was there, I began to fully realize that now I would be truly alone. He knew my fear and sought to comfort me, but as I left, I was heartbroken.
I am thankful that I had decided to stay in Bakersfield for a few more days, because I was staying with my friend, a single woman who had always lived alone. In her house, I began to experience a side of being alone that I hadn’t thought about—the fact that I no longer was responsible for anyone but myself. It was up to me when I wanted to go home. Nobody else. If I wanted to take a side trip, I could. If I wanted to mope around, I could.
That’s the thing. When you live alone, by choice or by circumstance, you decide. You can look at it as some sort of divine punishment or you can look at it as living a life unloved—or you can look at it as freedom. I choose to look at it as freedom. My life is mine to do with as I choose, and I choose victory, not defeat.
Fine words, but what about the holidays? Again, it’s my choice. I invited my son and his family to spend Thanksgiving with us, and we all had a blast! I chose to spend my first Christmas driving up to see all my family. It didn’t snow, but I had a white Christmas anyway. Easter was spent alone. And that was when I realized the secret of living alone during the holidays.
I am active in my church. I’m a lector, a cantor, I sing in the choir, and I serve at the table (help distribute communion). During the Easter season, I read on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter. Our choir sang at both services. By the time I came home, I was exhausted. If it were a normal year, I would start the Easter dinner or go to one of my children’s houses. But because I live alone and had invited no one over, I went to bed. I had a nice long nap and then got up and made dinner. I enjoyed watching Netflix and had a nice quiet time. It was my choice not to be downhearted.
There are people who say that if you’re alone, you should be of service to others. Go help the homeless. Serve Easter dinner in the homeless shelter. Go to the nursing homes and visit. I’m sure that for some, that is redeeming, but it is not for me. I know myself, and I know that I would be miserable. I would see their loneliness, their state, and it would only exacerbate my own aloneness. Being alone is one thing—being lonely is quite another. For that reason, I choose (at least right now) to deal with being alone by enjoying it.
There are some times that I don’t want to be alone. I can’t see spending my birthday or Christmas by myself. As long as it is in my power, I will do something about that. This year, I am flying to South Carolina to see my sister. I made sure that my trip coincided with my birthday. I’m looking forward to spending my birthday with a woman that I love. Next Christmas—it’s too far away to know. But I do know that whatever happens, God will be there, and with God , you’re never alone.
And that’s the key, of course. Get your eyes off yourself and fasten them firmly on the Lord. He will never leave you or forsake you, and when it feels like He has, it’s time for you to have a firm talk with yourself. We walk by faith, not sight. We don’t have to see God to know that He’s there. We don’t have to fear that he will leave us in our time of trouble. He’s promised not to. Take time with Him, and in the doing, ask Him why He loves you so much. What you find out will amaze you—but more on that next time.