Alone
Cameron
Shipmate
in Epiphanies
Many of us find ourselves living alone. Some through choice, some through circumstance, some through bereavement.
For me, intimate relationships just seemed to stop happening around 20 years ago and I have no expectation (and increasingly no wish) for that to change. But alone sometimes means opportunity, and sometimes means loneliness.
It’s likely that people’s experiences will be quite varied.
I thought it would be good to explore this in a supportive way, perhaps:
1. sharing stories of how we came to be alone;
2. relating how we got through a transition to alone-ness;
3. noting positives that we may have crafted from our circumstances, such as meaningful solitude.
Other lines of conversation about alone-ness are welcome of course.
For me, intimate relationships just seemed to stop happening around 20 years ago and I have no expectation (and increasingly no wish) for that to change. But alone sometimes means opportunity, and sometimes means loneliness.
It’s likely that people’s experiences will be quite varied.
I thought it would be good to explore this in a supportive way, perhaps:
1. sharing stories of how we came to be alone;
2. relating how we got through a transition to alone-ness;
3. noting positives that we may have crafted from our circumstances, such as meaningful solitude.
Other lines of conversation about alone-ness are welcome of course.
Comments
One possibility I'm thinking about is taking folks to live with me. Either relatives (if interested and/or in need) or refugees. A professor of mine has done that and it's working out really well.
I lost my wife to cancer nearly 6 years ago now. It's tough. It doesn't get any easier.
Both Gamaliettes have flown the nest and I no longer have caring responsibilities for my dotty, doddery and ultimately very loveable old mother in law as she died just before Christmas. One daughter lives close by, the other 'up north' on a narrowboat and is somewhat estranged from us for the time being, although I expect that to change.
I filled my time with freelance work and council/political activities after my wife died. I found a retreat at an RC retreat centre very helpful in the immediate aftermath, although I'm not RC of course.
My freelance work has dried up and I've stepped back from council and political involvement. I still help out with some things and am volunteering as a 'befriender' to elderly people who live alone.
Arguably, I've retired too early as I miss the busyness which I used to staunch my grief and sense of isolation. But I've been able to call down an occupational pension that was frozen when I was made redundant some years back and also have my late wife's pension and funds from my late mother's estate.
I run a poetry group and am in the process of setting up a kind of 'hobby enterprise' publishing poetry pamphlets.
I'm also researching for an idea I have for an historical novel. The research may become an end in itself ... I should have been an academic really.
So I've got a lot on and plenty of things to keep me occupied.
And yet, and yet ...
I've been to Madagascar on a group trip. Fascinating and heartbreaking 💔. I'm still trying to process it.
I've tended to travel alone but for short periods only since Mrs Gamaliel died. I thought going away with a group might help. It did to some extent but as most people were couples it reinforced my sense of being alone.
I did have a 'romantic' relationship not that long - about 18 months to 2 years - after I lost my wife and I felt guilty about that. It ended abruptly and whilst nothing 'happened' in 'that' sense, I felt I'd blown it by steering what could have been a convivial platonic relationship in a more romantic direction. Thereby ruining the friendship when things didn't work out. 😞
But what's done is done.
What I miss is having someone to go to the cinema or theatre with. I'm not one for regularly going out for meals but do so with my younger daughter and her boyfriend and his family from time to time - and sometimes with friends.
I do get 'crushes' on people. I've shared about one on these boards. I find that hard. Your mind can play tricks when you live alone.
I didn't marry until my early 30s so was used to being single and often shared flats with friends or had people staying for a while in my house. I'm not sure I'd be up for that now.
Weekends can be hardest and also Mondays for some reason. If I wasn't careful it'd be easy not to see anyone from one day to the next. Most people I know have family things on over the weekend.
I am getting more involved with church life, having steered clear of too much close involvement beyond the services. I wasn't able to do much while my mother in law was alive.
I'm not sure whether any of this is helpful to anyone else but I'm simply thinking aloud - thinking allowed.
I don't find it easy. But I press on.
I just retired, and so I don't go to work every day any more, but I keep busy so far with a combination of live and virtual activities. I belong to a 12 step program, and go to live meetings twice a week and a virtual one once, I play Dungeons and Dragons virtually with a group once a week, I go to fanish gatherings virtually twice a week, and I Skype with a dear friend and ex-lover every night. In addition I have a very good pair of friends that I see on a regular basis. I am going to have dinner with my daughter and boyfriend on Monday, we don't see each other too often but I call her frequently. I also see my brother in a nursing home about once a week, and call my other brother, who is mentally handicapped and lives in a group home, twice a week.
I enjoy living alone, I have my cat and turtle to keep me company. and as detailed above, I see other people frequently enough to be content.
I am by nature introverted, and my job as a Registered Mental Health Nurse can often leave me needing head space at the end of a day. I have a couple of close friends as well as family members whose company I enjoy.
I'm a fairly regular visitor to Gladstone's Library in Flintshire, Wales which is a residential Library with regular speakers and groups. My next trip there is in September to attend the Sea of Faith 40th Anniversary weekend. Meeting like-minded people at events like that help me feel less lonely.
I'm in my early 50s and would hate to think that my final really significant romantic relationship has already been and gone. I miss the shared discussions, holidays, cooking for someone else, the cuddles, the sex and having a partner to bounce ideas off when doing things to the house, but meeting people 'organically' gets harder and harder, and dating sites haven't made much difference.
Maybe I'm less likely to settle now as well.
If only life were that simple.
Relationships are hard work. But ...
We moved to this house eleven years ago, for several reasons but mainly to be near my daughter. I have had the joy of seeing my daughter’s children grow up. The younger has done done his GCSEs. The older has just left to start a degree apprenticeship. We get on well and I see them briefly but fairly frequently. I get on well with my son who lives a bit further away but don’t have quite the same close relationship and he has problems with his own family. Both my son and my son-in- law can provide practical help, as I am pretty useless at many things.
I thrive on routine and structure to my week, and am a bit adrift without it eg in August. I have a number of people I know through choirs and church who I can call friends, but we are not close friends and I’d have to be really stuck to call them in time of trouble. Most are married and not really open to spontaneous meet-ups. Whilst I am happy with my own company, I enjoy the stimulus of others. On my own I don’t structure my time well. I still have a massive amount of sorting and clearing to do but I struggle to motivate myself. It has been a huge task and overwhelming at times.
I used to do voluntary work but gave up when my husband became ill. I have not gone back to it but nor have I resigned. It is mainly WFH these days. I am not sure I have the head space, though I am nearly ready for a new challenge.
It is genuinely surprising that that thought makes me a bit sad.
The thought of living in close proximity to a large group of people is not something I look forward to in my future.
I have lived in my home for close to 40 years and now have really good neighbours whom I could ask for help if I needed it. (the teenage son of the family next door interrupted his gaming to help with a computer problem I had I was really impressed and very grateful!!!).
Hmmm ...
I'm not sure there's any 'right' or 'wrong' answer to this. It took my late wife and I a long time to adjust to married life as we'd both got used to having our own space and doing our own thing.
There are certainly advantages to living alone, but now I'm doing so because of circumstances - bereavement- rather than choice, I do find it difficult.
I know of several older people who are in relationships but who don't live with their partners. A kind of 'friends with benefits' thing. They live separately in their respective homes but 'stay over' at each others places or go away together regularly.
I think this is becoming increasingly common.
Whether this is an option for those who wish to adhere to 'traditional' approaches to relationships as understood and practised in more 'conservative' forms of Christianity is a moot point.
I'm noticing that cohabitation is becoming more common in churchy circles of all stripes, even in fairly evangelical settings.
Whatever the case, with people living longer and various social changes the whole landscape is different now.
My mother-in-law's last days were marked by such a tangible sense of faith that I almost expected to see angels at her bedside. I played her some hymns and choral music on CD and her face glowed almost like that of Moses.
My late wife had a crisis of faith towards the end. Why couldn't anyone 'prove' it all to her?
Yet when I read Revelation 22:4 one evening (from an Anglican Compline service sheet I think), she said, 'Does that mean us?' and began to weep.
I used to read her prayers before she slept. Those were precious times.
And yet that still doesn't obviate the grief. It still doesn't lift the loneliness. It still doesn't make things 'right.'
Jacob limped the rest of his life.
Not TMI at all!! *****HUGE HUGS *****
It doesn't help that I am also taking antibiotics which make me feel like mind and body are both filled with cold porridge, but that's not all there is to my present state.
———
I have been thinking about how I make some things work for me as someone on my own:
Films - I like going to the movies, and I don’t mind doing that by myself. But like others, I miss having someone to talk to about the film afterwards - so a while ago, I started keeping a journal about the films I see instead.
Cafés - getting a seat can be a pain (one half of couples always ‘save the seats’ while the other queues) but following advice on the Ship years ago, I now carry a spare item of clothing (say, a scarf) to claim a chair as I go in - preferably at a big table, if there is one. A book and a journal help to pass the time once I am there.
Conversation - I have a sister who lives too far away for drop-ins, but I phone her at the same time every week, and sometimes that goes for more than an hour. I also thank the Lord for senior ladies at bus stops: a mention of the weather (it’s Scotland, we have a lot of it) is often all it takes to get a little conversation underway. Starting a conversation with gentlemen seems to require a knowledge of sport (especially football), which in my case I have not got!
Do others have ways to try to make alone-ness work, or at least mitigate it in particular ways?
Praying!! 🕯🕯🕯
I don’t have family close by, my sister happens to be attending someone’s wedding. It’s possible to organise these things and I have, but it’s times like these I notice the assumption of a household - and wonder what I will do as I get older.
I have a personal interest in things that help with being alone, because I feel fairly certain that my situation won’t change - but I don’t think for a moment there are answers to everything, or approaches that will work for everyone. So it’s always going to be good to feel free to express how it is going.
I am also learning a lot through hearing how alone-ness works out (or not) for other people, including some issues I hadn’t thought of (like the post-operative precautions @Doublethink is arranging).
I have many hobbies and daily routines, so don't often have much time to get very lonely, but sometimes I get very sad about losing my partner to pancreatic cancer...a year ago we didn't even know she was ill but she was dead in January. This is hard to take in.
I miss her practical skills with the house and the garden (especially the latter) and I get frustrated by tasks that are hard or impossible to do on my own like going in the loft, or giving the cats their flea treatment! I have mostly adapted quite well but it's still sometimes difficult and sad.
One solution, though I don’t know how to access the organisation that does the matching up, is for a young lodger to move in with an older person and be mutually supportive.
Also @ThunderBunk, no need to apologise at all. Nor @HarryCH.
In answer to @Cameron's question, this is still work in progress for me. I do chat to people in shops and at bus stops, on trains and so on and that's relatively easy in this part of the country. Getting involved with stuff helps too. There's always a point in the day, though, whether first thing in the morning or last thing at night when grief or loneliness 'hits' me. It may not last long but it can be pretty intense.
I can relate to @Gracious Rebel's point about missing those things a lost partner was good at. My wife was a heck of a lot more practical than me.
I've shared a bit - possibly too much - about getting 'crushes' on people and I think what's happened there is that I've seen - or thought I've seen - particular attributes I associate with my late wife - although with very different people.
I wish I didn't get 'crushes' on people but I have done. I s'pose it's a case of accepting that this can happen from time to time but not dwelling on it or allowing it to take over. Easier said than done. I was never a Lothario and the relationship with my late wife was the only serious romantic relationship I had.
I've never done the journaling thing but perhaps I ought to give it a try. I like @Cameron's idea of journaling about a film etc.
It strikes me as a very satisfactory arrangement for all concerned.
I think journalling can be helpful. I don’t do it often, but I sometimes write down my thoughts , both positive and negative. In this way I find the positive points outweigh the the negatives. Eg recently when daunted by how much ( sorting and clearing) I still need to do, listing what I have already achieved unaided since my husband died encourages me.
I also apply this principle more widely- to things I have now done alone ( bought a car, been to the theatre). Still early days.
Mr F and I have no family we could call on (his sister is 300 miles away, my brothers are both distant and in poor health). Our social circle is tiny and consists mainly of people even older and more infirm than us. When lockdown struck, we were entirely dependent on online deliveries - which were hens' teeth to get - or what I could schlepp from local shops.
I am vividly aware that if Mr F died - which given he has incurable cancer is not so improbable - I would be very alone.
The first time I ran across this I was absolutely outraged. Medical facilities won't let you leave alone following a colonoscopy, and they don't have space for you to just wait till you're okay. I'm fortunate to have a friend with a flexible work schedule who could take me, but I have no idea what I would have done without her, and I'm sure there are plenty of people who don't have a friend or family member who can take a day off from work. When I left the facility, I was doubly outraged, as I was fully alert and could safely have driven myself home. Or rather, out to a late breakfast, as hunger was my only problem!
Help following surgery, though, is necessary, and the medical system just assumes everyone has it. The obvious answer for people who don't is for medical insurance to cover it, but my very standard policy doesn't. It covers things that can only be done by a trained professional, but it doesn't cover all the things I'm doing for my partner now, a few days after major surgery. The only thing I can think of is to continue to cultivate friendships with women in a similar position.
I totally agree. I take comfort in the fact that my mother completely uprooted her life after my father died and made new friends in her late 70s. The key things were that she was in a community where she could eat a meal with others every day but had her own apartment and that she was a genuinely lovely person. I'm *not* a lovely person, so I'll have to get by on being interesting to talk to! But once I'm alone again I'll be looking for a similar community.
All good points.
Something that's not really cropped up much so far is the whole issue of 'providence' or 'purpose.'
I recognise this is a potentially contentious area and raises all sorts of issues, such as 'theodicy' etc.
Why did my wife due at the age of 56 but her mother at 92 and her grandfather at 102?
Is there a 'purpose' in my widowhood and living alone? So I can volunteer, help others, give more to charity, do more church stuff? The Apostle Paul seemed to stress the single state as an opportunity to 'serve the Lord' (in whatever way that might mean).
Is there an intrinsic 'calling' in it or is that something we have to find and exercise or retrieve from the wreckage as it were?
A priest once told me that he believed that all of us have an 'appointed time' and that Mrs Gamaliel was called 'home' as it were because her work on earth was done.
I can see comfort in that kind of thought but must admit I struggled to find it so. What about the child who dies of leukemia at the age of 6? The one killed in a tragic accident or taken in ways none of us can bear to think about?
I didn't become Orthodox until after my wife's death. My parish priest wisely and compassionately advised me to wait until after she had died as my changing church affiliation would be an extra burden for her to cope with as she neared the end of her life.
Even then, I waited a while afterwards.
A zealous convert virtually opined that we should pray for my wife to be 'taken' quickly in order for me to convert! Some people ... 🙄
Ok. That's an extreme example and that particular individual isn't always so insensitive.
But many of us do find 'patterns and meanings and 'providences' in things. Our respective mileages vary, to deploy a phrase often found aboard Ship.
Scripture does seem to suggest that God may 'test' or guide us or 'allow' things to happen as it were for some kind of purpose or benefit - however obscure it may appear to us. If this is the case then surely it would be commensurate with his love and compassion and not out of some caprice.
I've lost my wife and my mother, but baldly, I have more time and money as a result of that. Do I eat, drink and be merry (so far as grief allows) or do I look to use both wisely and well and to the benefit of others?
The latter, I hope but to what extent do we allow ourselves trips and treats if we have the means to do so?
An old school friend observed to my brother, 'I don't think your brother knows how to enjoy himself.'
He rather sourly passed that on.
'Ask her how she'd like to be bereaved,' I replied.
I'm rambling, but you get my drift.
We only have one crack at this and moping around doesn't achieve a great deal, particularly when age or infirmity will eventually catch up with us all.
Perhaps I overthink these things. I treated myself to an expensive item of clothing recently, reflecting that I wouldn't have much occasion to wear it, but I would create some.
My social life such as it is doesn't require expensive clothes but this item is well made, comfortable and should last for years if I'm spared.
I'm generally quite abstentions, or relatively so. All these things are relative. I've been thinking of ways to 'offset' that in charitable or other terms. How pernickety should we become?
A lot of older or single people wouldn't have the luxury of that choice.
Thoughts?
One of the great sadnesses of so many (45) of us feeling obliged to leave our parish church a few years ago was the loss of friends, loss of a supportive community.
Most of my friends and acquaintances are married. This is not a criticism of them but I think until you become single again it is almost impossible to envisage the difficulties of living alone.
He isn't involved in any church community to any meaningful extent but attends services occasionally.
He's always been quite resentful of married people or those in long term relationships.
I'm not but can see how that can happen. Many years ago he and several single people in his church organised a 'treasure hunt', which all the couples and families enjoyed. They all happily drove home afterwards leaving the single people to return to their flats and houses alone.
Young single people are often used as a 'resource' in churches - babysitting, various rotas - and older single people often become invisible both in churches and across society as a whole.
I think there are broader societal and cultural issues at play here.
Many evangelical churches are quite 'family-centric' for instance,
and sure, there's a place for that particularly in our increasingly atomised societies.
I s'pose, as far as it depends on us, we should 'become the difference we want to see.'
That's if we have the 'agency' to do so.
I think my dad (widowed at 65 when my mum was 62) would associate with much of that - minus the faith (he goes to church with me when he visits us but has never attended regularly as an adult).
On providence/purpose he’s very matter of fact - ‘don’t know about any of that but there are things I can DO’
Look at the things we can do rather than what we can't.
And there I go again being whiney, at least to my own ears. It's just hard really hearing for the first time, at the relatively advanced age of 52, how difficult it is and always will be for me to maintain a level of functioning which makes life tolerable. All of this feels like it makes being alone all the more inevitable, and actually even scarier for that very fact.