For almost seven years of widowhood, I have lived in solitude, with the exception of a one year stint with a co-worker roommate. She opened her home to me for a pittance while I was struggling to get back on my feet upon returning to work and I will always be grateful.
I am comfortable alone. I talk to myself. I sing. I swear. And back to more talking to myself. I listen to music and don’t care if I look silly. In the apartment, then the RV, I danced when the mood struck me. More complicated in the RV, I must admit 🙂 If my hair and beauty tools took up the entire sink area, no one cared. If I left a dish overnight because I stayed up reading the last two chapters of a novel, it was no big deal. If I wanted to sit and stare out the window, lost in a daydream, I did not perceive it as being lazy – I perceived it as recharging my inner batteries and just ‘being’.
Things change. Little people have to be taught good hygiene, how to clean up a kitchen, how to be tidy. Heaven forbid they be allowed to sit and do nothing but daydream. Must.Be.Busy.At.All.Times. I wrestle with the concept that all waking hours must be spent in accomplishment mode. What about processing the day’s events? The feelings that came whirring along? The words one said and their tone? How about letting the brain disengage and just wander?
The rest of the week will be spent traveling between the RV and the apartment to shuttle things out of one place and into another. Then cleaning the fridge and freezer and all the RV systems in preparation for putting it into storage. Then picking up some things I’ve not had to have while living in a furnished apartment and RV. And doing all of this with a six-year-old chatterbox trailing along 🙂 Hah!
So today is my last day of “freedom”. I slept in until 7:30. I looked at the internet briefly. I perused two of Lloyd Kahn’s amazing books Homework – Handbuilt Shelter and Tiny Homes, Simple Shelter and fed my future dreams to keep them alive and well. I listened to the Amazon Prime Acoustic channel and sang along to Jack Johnson and Simon and Garfunkel tunes. And then I shut down everything and just inhaled the silence.
I wonder what will come into my one open hand as I fervently grasp solitude with the other for one last span of time?
‘Till next time,