Everyone cleared out of the house yesterday, and for the first time in a long while, I find myself home alone.
I was only slightly disappointed that I couldn’t go with those heading off to the Whites to hike above tree line; I’m nursing a sprained ankle that’s healing. But I was relieved, too. Even though I work alone all day, I looked forward to finding my own rhythm after so many weeks of adjusting to others’.
I used to live alone.
I lived alone in my twenties, and I liked it most of the time. I spent a summer in a stone cottage high on a moor in Northumberland, England, reading nineteenth century novels and writing. I spent another summer living in a Parisian garret while studying French at the Sorbonne. I lived alone on the Upper West Side of Manhattan while I attended graduate school at Columbia. And I lived alone when I first moved to Vermont for the summer to write.
Sometimes, though, I was lonely. Desperately so.
Wedding Day, 1986.
Then I met Tim.
Even though I made a room of my own a non-negotiable condition of cohabitation and then marriage, and even though I spend most of each work day alone in that room, being alone for part of the day is not the same as living alone. And here I was, home alone and out of practice.
Settling in.
Before the hikers packed up their gear and headed out, I anticipated my alone time as a chance to reset: a chance to find my own rhythm, from when to wake, what to eat, and how to spend my time between words.
I had two deadlines to meet, but otherwise vast empty hours to do as I pleased.
- I wandered outside, weeded a flower bed, harvested sugar snap peas and picked kale for my lunch salad.
- I cleaned the kitchen and swept the floor.
- I walked to the Post Office, and was struck by the beauty of this perfect summer day.
- I moved the meat birds to new pasture after corralling three escapees back into their pen.
- I read the news, answered emails, vetoed all the projects that involved climbing into the car.
- I may not have known exactly what it is I wanted to do, but I knew for certain I wanted to stay home.
I was surprised that it took me so long to settle. It’s been a long time since I’ve been so thoroughly on my own, even for such a relatively short time. I decided that this would be the subject of this week’s post.
Timo, mon amour.
This morning, after chores, I came right to work with good concentration, revised a radio commentary and wrote this. As I dated the file, I saw that today’s my wedding anniversary.
I’ve lived more than half my life with Tim.
I may be home alone for a couple of days, and I may spend most of my work days alone, but I don’t live alone. I live in a marriage where love is infinite and generosity is the norm.
Friday would be my 33rd wedding anniversary. Although I was 33 when I married and had lived alone since I graduated college at 21, it is hard for me to remember those times. Instead I remember my life with Dayton. He was my best friend and it was comfortable to just sit in the same room with him while he read and I did cross stich. Alone and lonely are not synonymous.
Hi Wendy: You’re absolutely correct in differentiating between “alone” and “lonely.” I’m so sorry for your loss.
You are a very lucky woman.
Yes I am.
As I get older, I appreciate more and more the gift of having some time to myself. But I also appreciate more and more the joy of being with loved ones. It can be a bit of a balancing act. My husband and I worked full time whilst bringing up our four children and we currently have one adult son and his partner living with us to enable them to retrain as teachers. So from empty nesters (for a short period) to a new dynamic of living with adult children. I am lucky enough to be retired now, which means I can enjoy the house to myself whilst the others are out at work / training/school. But I need to remind myself to give my husband the space and quiet he needs when he gets home late in the evening and at weekends.
Deborah – thank you for your blog, your insights and your tales of life in Vermont. I find it very calming and uplifting to read them.
Mary, thank you for your comments – especially your kind words at the end, which mean so much more than the numbers provided by internet analytics. And I’m glad you like my view of life in Vermont. I’m guessing you live somewhere in the UK – or part of the empire that’s broken off. It’s the “whilst”! All best.
Yes, I live in England! Is “whilst” not common usage in the USA? I shall find out that and more when my husband and I visit New England this autumn (another give away!). We’ll be spending a few days in Boston then taking a road trip via Portland, the White Mountains and the Green Mountains……can’t wait!
I totally understand about living alone and getting use to sharing and then back alone again…but the 2 of you are so marvelous ,individuals and together…and you both offer your wisdom and positive vibrational energy everywhere..we are lucky too to have you both…
Thank you for your kind words.