Los Angeles, California
I just spent my first ever solo Thanksgiving dinner. Joel and I found ourselves in a Love in the Time of Covid Redux situation. He was exposed to Covid by a co-worker who worked at his side for an entire day. There were masks, there was hand sanitizing and washing. There was Lysol spray at the end of the day. But there also needed to be a test, which Joel got on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. I had some trepidation regarding his ability to obtain results just before the holiday. Remember, we've been to this rodeo before. But the last time he was tested after exposure at this same urgent care facility, the results came back in under 24 hours. This time, we were not so lucky. Joel had three days off, Wednesday through Friday, and returned to work on Saturday still not knowing his results. Did the lab have his results? Probably. But they were so overloaded with the proactive testing of people who wanted to be clear before partying through the holiday, that the lab's website crashed, their phones went to voicemail and though he tried at all hours of the day and night, he could not get his results.
I had not anticipated spending Thanksgiving together, until this exposure occurred along with a work schedule that gave him three consecutive days off. With testing, we could see each other. But I couldn't plan a real Thanksgiving dinner (roasting a duck in our case) until we knew he was clear. The logistics were too complicated, so I made the executive decision to prepare macaroni and cheese and an apple crisp. Good for one, but equally good for two, should things work out.
My macaroni and cheese is not cheese-sauce based. And, there is actually a recipe for it in a previous post (available here, for free!). I began making it when I was about ten years old and the original recipe came from my Betty Crocker Boys and Girls Cookbook. Could you even name a cookbook with that title in these politically correct days? But I digress... I have been making this for years, and have tweaked it a lot through the decades. About twenty years or so back, the Los Angeles Times posted a very similar recipe and tagged it as: Ronald Reagan's Macaroni and Cheese. Huh. What I love about this recipe is all the ways you can vary it by using different cheeses and substituting creme fraiche for the sour cream and tarting it up in a variety of different ways. This year I made it with sharp cheddar, gruyere and that truffle cheese from Trader Joe's. The apple crisp may very well also have originally come from that same cookbook. I pretty much cooked my way through it before I entered my teens and graduated to adult cookbooks, so to speak.
By Thanksgiving afternoon I was fairly certain that Joel was not going to join me, so I shook up a martini, prepared the casserole, and an hour or two later, I sat down on the den sofa to eat it out of a shallow bowl accompanied by a glass of sauvignon blanc. And some bleakness did set it at that point. I had planned to watch Hannah and her Sisters but courtesy of TCM, I saw it earlier in the week. So I watched Pieces of April, a different Thanksgiving-themed film. And then I watched a favorite, bittersweet film: Celeste and Jessie Forever. I didn't have to think too much about solitude because it has been with me throughout this year. And, the bleakness of macaroni and cheese out of a bowl was tempered by the fact that I had set my expectation bar low. And, while it was my first Thanksgiving spent completely alone, I have the belief that it may be my only one spent alone. And with everything that has happened this year, I can deal with that.
During this pandemic time, a friend remarked to me that the only thing she could imagine that was worse than going through this, would be to be going through it while living alone. I think I smiled ruefully. I don't know, I replied. Let's see. I get to eat whatever I want for dinner. I have total control over the remote. If I want the TV off, it will be off. ... and there is no conflict in my life. Not to say that going through the pandemic with loved ones will cause a resemblance to the battling Bickersons. And of course I intensely miss spending time with Joel. But there is a lot to be said for solitude. The downside is that I worry how and who I will be out the other end of this. Most of the invitations I have received through this time, I have turned down. And the few I have accepted have felt awkward. Even spending some time with my lovely neighbors, a happy hour while their twins nap, is a bit of a challenge. I enjoy their company, but it requires a push on my side. And this is not who I have ever been. But the experience of this year has brought changes to us all, and perhaps in many ways that we don't yet recognize.
The ability to tolerate being alone is essentially important. And not just for the reason that about half of us will end up living alone. I don't think I recognized the importance of this during my long marriage, until I began spending time on my own in Carmel. It was initially a challenge of adjustment. But it brought with it a clarity that I had not experienced in years. Our lives get so taken up with stimuli: activities; conversations; media; traffic; news. There is always something and someone there. And it's constant, and that's not good. You don't have to meditate to take time out. You just have to be alone in quiet to think. A simple thing but all too rare in the world in which we live, and perhaps the most important thing we can have in our lives.
Do I welcome the end of this time when we can once again spend time with all the people we care about? Of course. I want to spend time with Joel and catch up on all of the postponed conversations with my friend, Larry. I want Lynnette to come once a month so we can run around all day, then stay up late to play Ticket to Ride. I want my friends from northern California to come and stay in the summer for days by the pool and nights playing Sh*#head. I want to do pilates again, to see Cathy weekly as she guides me through this practice, and to have lunch with her, and more frequently, with my partner, Beth. I want to see movies and shop with my girlfriends like Lisa. I want to meet Todd and Christopher for lobster rolls at Connie and Ted's. I want to spend holidays with Connie and Curt and their wonderfully bright and interesting adult kids. I want to dance salsa with Joel in clubs, sharing the floor with my friend, Joy, surrounded by the music we love and the people in our salsa community. I want to go to The Hollywood Bowl to relive the magical night Joel and I shared there seeing Paul Simon. If I listed all of the things and all of the people I look forward to doing and seeing, this would be the longest post that I have written. But, on that list would be that I want to continue to enjoy solitude. Just not a 24/7, 365-day span of it.
I had mac 'n' cheese again the next night, then froze the remainder. That day I had begun to bring out my Christmas decorations, including my favorite mugs. I took another paperclip off the chain that will mark the days until the end of the year. We are in the home stretch of 2020. We made it this far, and hopefully more of it is behind us than ahead of us. In the favorite words of my late mother-in-law and my late mother: Better days are coming. This too shall pass. Solitude allows me to reflect on that, and to believe that it is true. May I be the first to wish you a Happy Christmas🎄! Not your holiday? That's ok. This year we share everything♡.
No comments:
Post a Comment