Just me

I don’t mind being alone, and I read a lot—which probably seems pathetic to people who aren’t voracious readers, but it isn’t. But I still miss him all the time.

It just occurred to me that I went through the whole day without speaking to a soul. Usually I speak with someone on the phone (thank you, Nia) or I go somewhere and at least have to speak to a clerk. It’s an element that I never thought about while Randy was dying. When you live alone and you don’t have a job, you have to actually plan to talk with someone. You have to go somewhere or call someone. I don’t feel lonely, but I do realize how isolated I am.

In the last years of Randy’s life I would nudge him to stay in touch with friends. As long as we were together he didn’t see the need to reach out to people because I was his favorite person to talk to. Which is fine, but it’s important to keep in touch with all the people you care about. So I would ask, When was the last time you spoke to Doug? And then he would text Doug and Doug would call or visit and I would try to fade into the background so they could have man talk.

And I’m reminded that I was the person who helped Randy do things for himself (some people would call that nagging) but I’m alone with no similar help for myself. It makes me sad that so much of my life has been spent without regular support from others. And that I’m back here again. No one is depending on me, but I don’t really have anyone to depend on because everyone else has a life in a way that I don’t.

And now I’m hearing all the bootstrap thinking in my head—you need to take care of yourself, build a new life. But I’m kind of tired.