i was thinking the other day about how my life has changed. i grew up in a small house where we all shared a small bathroom, and i shared a room with my sister. i enjoyed the solitude that i experienced in bits and pieces, but i think i felt alone a lot-even though it seemed that the house was so small and we were not quiet people. But i never lived alone, and am not sure growing up if i was lonely or whether i enjoyed being by myself. My parents were not home - both worked, and they played poker on Saturday nights while i watched TV. i remember now being alone watching television even as a teenager.
As i was thinking the other day, i remember thinking about the circle of life. We grow up in a family, then create a family of our own. The children leave the nest and then it is just 2. When your spouse dies, you are alone and this may be the first time in your life that you are alone. That is hard, being alone for the first time, because the solitude is overwhelming.
But i am now questioning the premise that this is the first time that i am alone. Yes, i have never lived alone, but i am very familiar with being and feeling alone. Is this different? i guess anything accompanying grief is more complicated, more laden with emotions, more difficult to pull apart. Like a best friend, there are times that i welcome being alone and times when it is suffocating. Living alone may be too much alone time even for me.