I learned today I am not so alone

I live alone. And I am occasionally lonely.

During this pandemic, I have spent all the significant holidays and celebrations alone. This doesn’t account for the zoom happy hours or children’s birthdays celebrated via facetime. And I spend my days working in the support of individuals and organizations — infrequently face-to-face, but mostly by phone, or on one of the many apps for connecting over the distances.

I have adapted well to the new and safe way of working. My dogs and cat are especially happy to have me around all the time, unless I am running an errand.

Don’t let me paint too bleak a picture. I do see other people on a daily basis. The dogs, cat, and I visit with the workmen on the lane daily for a treat. We walk the shores of Lake Erie with a neighbor and her dog, regardless of weather conditions. And we always end this morning routine next door with my neighbor for coffee and conversation  — twenty feet apart!

I have friends who call on a daily basis and people with whom I check in regularly. I am busy, active, and surrounded by friends, colleagues, clients, and family.

However, on the dark winter evenings, or during the holiday-filled month of December, or when I am thinking about the effects of getting COVID or something else serious….I feel alone. I am the only one responsible for me. I don’t have a partner to talk through the serious stuff that wakes me up in the middle of the night.

I could wallow in this sense of being alone. But if you know me well, I always search for the up side of a situation. There are positives to being alone. You get to choose the televisions channel all the time. You fill the refrigerator with what you like to eat. You go to bed and rise on your own schedule. You get set in your ways. And there are no arguments.

For an extraverted person — who loves to emote, talk things through, and share the joy in every moment, — though able to exist alone, I would rather it be different.

Yesterday, I discovered that I am not so alone.

People are aware of me and many know me well. If I were to go missing or find myself downed by COVID I now know that I would be discovered pretty quickly.

I found this out when after the dogs, cat, and I finished our morning routine and visits and were settled down at the laptop, I received a call from a friend in the Village. She sounded concerned. She quickly asked me, “Where are you?” I replied, “At the cottage.” She pressed on with, “Where is the cat?” I confidently replied, “With me in the cottage.” She then shared her sad news. On the road, just east of the cottage lane was a kitty, similar to my Nala, dead in the road having just been hit by a car. Oh my, we were just out on the side walk….all of us. I raced out to see if I could recognize the cat as one I knew. It was a sad sight.

I didn’t want the cat to be further affected by driving cars and so quickly called the Service Department of our small Village. When there was no answer to my call, I resorted to calling the Mayor, who when I lost my composure and broke into tears, quickly arranged for the cat to be retrieved. Oh, the joys of living in a small Village where most people know everyone else (and all of their quirks).

It wasn’t too much longer before another call came through; another friend saw the cat and was checking in on the welfare of my kitty and me. This continued until the road was cleared.

Suddenly, I realized how ‘not alone’ in this world I am.

Later in the afternoon when I retold this story, both the sight of the cat in the road and the warmth of my caring friends stuck with me strongly enough that I am still repeating the experience. When I relayed this tale to Randy, my editor of my writing, he said, ‘It takes a Village.’

This phrase comes from “It takes a village to raise a child,” an African proverb that means that an entire community of people must interact with children for those children to experience and grow in a safe and healthy environment.

My friend Randy used it to remind me that I have built a Village of my own to support my life, as well as my dedication to animals and the care of my mother when she lived with me in her last year of life.

Thinking about my village reminded me of these things:

• I am cared about
• My helpfulness to others is always reciprocated
• I am happiest when I am helping another person
• I am learning to accept the help of others.
• I am not alone.

Who is your Village or Tribe?

Where do you go when you need a hand?

Are you like me, more comfortable in giving than receiving?

Yesterday, I was reminded by how kind and supportive my environment is for my well-being. People are good. The world is mostly good. Life is good.

I am so grateful to have had those lessons made visible. It makes getting through the winter and the long months of waiting for a vaccine much more bearable.

Well wishes to you,

Leslie

“The simple message of It Takes a Village is as relevant as ever:
We are all in this together.”

― Hillary Rodham Clinton, “It Takes a Village”