An Unmarried Woman

Los Angeles, California

I live alone and that means I spend a lot of time alone. I am thankful that I have Joel and good friends and that I am often busy. But occasionally there is a spell of time: Joel is worn down from his work schedule; LOL is recuperating from eye surgery; Lynnette is out of town, and I find myself on my own for a longer stretch than usual.

In my early days in Carmel, I struggled during those Januarys when I had what I considered to be a long stretch alone. I remember having to get through eight days without company once, and it felt like a long slog. Eight days would still be a challenge, and I often think of my mom who we left alone for long periods while supporting my sister during her husband's illness. I wish I had that to do over again, to better balance that distribution of my time. But now, all-in-all, I like being alone, and I enjoy solitude. But still, when it stretches out too many days without the respite of Joel and my friends, it turns to loneliness. And loneliness was the thing I always feared in ending up alone in life.

It's a bit of a paradox, for what I have learned is that living alone is half as bad as you think it will be and that linking your life with someone, having him there, was often twice as lonely as I had anticipated. There are moments of joy now which are singularly relished. But then, there are the moments when I turn to share but no one is in that space. That sinking realization, however, doesn't differ greatly from turning to share with someone who is there, but inaccessible.

It's this great conundrum of aging, I think. My therapist points out that being with someone is not a guarantee that you will have someone there at the end of your life. Any more than that having children provides a surety caregiver when you need one. Life is uncertain, and eating dessert first doesn't rectify us against the realities of aging alone. Ultimately we are all alone, and it is our choice to either be as contented as one can be in our aloneness, or to rail against it.

Lincoln said people are just about as happy as they make up their minds to be. When I am struggling, I read this each morning. It's part of an affirmation that I utilize to help me stay centered. The hardest part for me is forgetting about yesterday and tomorrow and trying to be in the moment. My head likes to time-travel and it's a dynamic challenge to shut down the doors before it boards and takes off. As an aside, having an affirmation tends to border on new age philosophy, which makes me shudder a bit. But, whatever works...

But the truth is that aging really isn't for sissies. I've heard that phrase attributed to Katharine Hepburn, Lauren Bacall, and, recently, Bette Davis. It sounds like Lauren Bacall to me, but they were all tough broads who stuck it out and got through it. It truly is the only way. Can't skirt around it. Can't avoid it. The only way is to muddle through.

But this started about loneliness and the conundrum of enjoying living alone, but still having intense bouts of loneliness. You can reach out. But you often don't feel you want to bother people. So other things keep you company: writing; reading good books; Masterpiece when it's not a mystery series; movies on TCM; a very good scotch; a very ripe cheese; comfy pajamas; texting a friend. And sooner or later, company comes back around. After I spend time with people, I am more than happy to spend a night or two on my own. Three is too many.

It's good not to have a compass to see where you will travel in this life. And it's good not to be someone who has travel-sickness. If I keep my eye on the road, I do fine. Sometimes, it's just the rest stops that make me queasy...