We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone. ~ Orson Welles This Christmas season is the fifth one I’m spending alone. I would love to tell you that it’s getting easier. It isn’t. The permanence seems all the more real with each passing year.
Last year, after the holidays were over, I
threatened commented that for my next Christmas I thought I should go away somewhere and do something totally different. I was quite serious, but the look of horror and shock on the face of one of my older grandchildren made that a very short-lived proposal. I won’t entertain that thought/plan again soon. Too selfish, obviously.
I started this season with new resolve and lots of plans. It’s only December 1, and I’m already stumbling all over the depression, the lack of purpose. I try, oh how I try, to keep my eye on joy and peace and giving and sharing. All those good things are elusive. I’m doing something wrong. But what? I get up and go out and do all the generous things I know I’m supposed to do. I drive home with tears streaking my face. I get home and here I am. The same sad soul who left here a few hours earlier.
Last night I decided I would find a good movie on TV and cheer myself up. I found one that sounded okay. It starred Susan Sarandon, a fabulous actor, and Robin Williams, a good actor and riotously funny, as a rule. As expected, the acting was good. Unexpectedly, Robin played a serious role, nothing funny about it. I think the title of the movie was “Noel” but I’m not sure. Don’t watch it if you’re trying to get happy. Saddest thing I’ve seen in a long time. I sat on the couch and went through a half box of Kleenex. I should have turned it off but I got involved in the story and had to watch all of it. The ending was only slightly up-beat. So much for feeling better.
I don’t like to talk about being sad. I don’t usually find any good in doing so. Tonight, though, maybe I need to be brutally honest in order to round the corner and move toward the light. I have a lunch date with friends tomorrow. Tonight I’m getting some Christmas decorations out and trying to look forward to how beautiful my home will be once they’re all in place. I’m also crocheting a scarf for a granddaughter. Life keeps moving and so must I. I’ll quote my mom again, “I can’t quit. I have to keep trying.” Thanks for that bit of wisdom, Mom.
Can anyone understand how it is to have lived in the White House and then, suddenly to be living alone as the President’s widow? ~ Jackie Kennedy (My house wasn’t the White House nor my husband the President, but I feel your pain, Jackie.)