How to Be Alone...(no, I'm asking.)
I used to wonder how people could live alone after being in a relationship for any length of time. I’m about to find out.
My partner and I had been together almost 27 years. That’s pretty much my entire adult life. We never really fought, and even when things weren’t going well, splitting up didn’t seem like a thing I could do. Split up and start over? Easier to stay and work things out.
Bob was extremely loyal, even when I didn’t deserve it. Even my friends marvelled at how he didn’t toss me out sometimes. A few times even I expected to arrive home to find my shit out on the lawn. But no. I guess he was raised that way.
The thing that made it work was we were kind of opposite. Where I was weak, he was strong, and vice versa. I couldn’t hold a job, he couldn’t boil an egg. Stuff like that. But even though he was stable and I am impulsive, we had a shared emotional strength that combined was more than the sum of its parts.
When Bob had his stroke, I was there for him. Well, I was literally there to witness the stroke, but I digress. I was at his side, calm and rational, available 24/7 by phone, and in charge of the decisions about his care. I knew his wishes, and if he was able to notice, he’d find me there advocating for him.
It was clear to me right away Bob wasn’t coming home. He was completely incapacitated, couldn’t communicate, and entirely vulnerable. Now I was in charge. Funny thing, though. Bob had all his affairs organized to the point that I could handle everything. I had an iron-clad power of attorney, a notebook with all his accounts and passwords, and the majority of the bills were on auto pay. Good thing, too. Bills were his area.
For the five months between his stroke and his death, we were in a kind of limbo. He had little or no quality of life, and my entire life was worrying about him and closing shop on our life together. Even though I visited him every day, I was trying to wean myself from wanting to be there constantly. I needed to prepare myself for a life alone. Without Bob. No us, just me.
I’m so grateful to have had a life with Bob. I just adored him. But we were realists. Acknowledging and facing the truth of things was always essential to us. No use pretending things are better than they appear. So here’s the reality: Bob is gone. He’s not watching over me. I don’t have to be strong for him, keep his memory alive or even honor his wishes.
Its just me now. I’m on my own, and setting a course for a whole new life. I hope he would be proud. I think he would, mostly. I owe so much to our time together. I just wish I had a clue what to do now.
My partner and I had been together almost 27 years. That’s pretty much my entire adult life. We never really fought, and even when things weren’t going well, splitting up didn’t seem like a thing I could do. Split up and start over? Easier to stay and work things out.
Bob was extremely loyal, even when I didn’t deserve it. Even my friends marvelled at how he didn’t toss me out sometimes. A few times even I expected to arrive home to find my shit out on the lawn. But no. I guess he was raised that way.
The thing that made it work was we were kind of opposite. Where I was weak, he was strong, and vice versa. I couldn’t hold a job, he couldn’t boil an egg. Stuff like that. But even though he was stable and I am impulsive, we had a shared emotional strength that combined was more than the sum of its parts.
When Bob had his stroke, I was there for him. Well, I was literally there to witness the stroke, but I digress. I was at his side, calm and rational, available 24/7 by phone, and in charge of the decisions about his care. I knew his wishes, and if he was able to notice, he’d find me there advocating for him.
It was clear to me right away Bob wasn’t coming home. He was completely incapacitated, couldn’t communicate, and entirely vulnerable. Now I was in charge. Funny thing, though. Bob had all his affairs organized to the point that I could handle everything. I had an iron-clad power of attorney, a notebook with all his accounts and passwords, and the majority of the bills were on auto pay. Good thing, too. Bills were his area.
For the five months between his stroke and his death, we were in a kind of limbo. He had little or no quality of life, and my entire life was worrying about him and closing shop on our life together. Even though I visited him every day, I was trying to wean myself from wanting to be there constantly. I needed to prepare myself for a life alone. Without Bob. No us, just me.
I’m so grateful to have had a life with Bob. I just adored him. But we were realists. Acknowledging and facing the truth of things was always essential to us. No use pretending things are better than they appear. So here’s the reality: Bob is gone. He’s not watching over me. I don’t have to be strong for him, keep his memory alive or even honor his wishes.
Its just me now. I’m on my own, and setting a course for a whole new life. I hope he would be proud. I think he would, mostly. I owe so much to our time together. I just wish I had a clue what to do now.
It takes guts to be so candid & introspective. Especially so soon after. This is a new chapter in your life, & you have clear-mindedly turned the page.
ReplyDeleteWhen my first marriage broke up, I was almost 40 years old. It took a lot of time & thought to figure out what was next. No one else can know what you want to do with the rest of your life, or what has meaning for you/something you would like to devote the rest of your life to. What memories of yourself do you want to leave behind after you're gone? What could you spend the rest of your life doing that would give you the satisfaction of knowing it was time well spent? If you went back to college, what would you major in? Give yourself time.
It takes guts to be so candid & introspective. Especially so soon after. This is a new chapter in your life, & you have clear-mindedly turned the page.
ReplyDeleteWhen my first marriage broke up, I was almost 40 years old. It took a lot of time & thought to figure out what was next. No one else can know what you want to do with the rest of your life, or what has meaning for you/something you would like to devote the rest of your life to. What memories of yourself do you want to leave behind after you're gone? What could you spend the rest of your life doing that would give you the satisfaction of knowing it was time well spent? If you went back to college, what would you major in? Give yourself time.
It takes guts to be so candid & introspective. Especially so soon after. This is a new chapter in your life, & you have clear-mindedly turned the page.
ReplyDeleteWhen my first marriage broke up, I was almost 40 years old. It took a lot of time & thought to figure out what was next. No one else can know what you want to do with the rest of your life, or what has meaning for you/something you would like to devote the rest of your life to. What memories of yourself do you want to leave behind after you're gone? What could you spend the rest of your life doing that would give you the satisfaction of knowing it was time well spent? If you went back to college, what would you major in? Give yourself time.