I am learning how to live alone.
There, I've said it.
This is not a cry for attention or a grasp for sympathy.
But a realization.
Most surprising of all, I like it.
It came to me this past Memorial Day, where I commemorated both the idea and the day.
Eating a celebratory hamburger and bowing my head in prayer to honor those who gave their lives in service to our country, I did so while my four legged children watched in anticipation.
Is that it? I could hear their minds churning. Isn't anybody coming over, no noise, no kids?
A year ago I think this would have bothered me, but now I am mostly amused at myself. My husband is out of town on business and my children all have their own lives. I miss his touch and the sound of his voice. He and I talk everyday and while the kids offer their invitations, I am content to sit on the deck and watch the sunset, by myself or sometimes with the cat.
The solitude has given me time to reflect, as all good sunsets allow. It also gave me the opportunity to put together query letters and promotional material for the book fair in NYC on Wednesday. I'll fly down on the 6am flight, have dinner with my daughter, do a little shopping on Thursday and return home that evening. That is my life this year, traveling and book signings and visiting with family.
In the back of my mind, its the scenario I always hoped for, although I took a few left turns along the way.
I am alone but not lonely. I love deeply and know that I am loved in return.
That's the best anyone could hope for.
I'm living proof that you can have it all.
I'm living proof that you can have it all.
Just not at the same time.
