Recently, we’ve known a rash of people, either through job or life situations learning to live by themselves. Some of them are doing well. Others do not like it at all. Some people just do not enjoy living alone. They like having another person bumping around in the house. I can understand that. For some, after living more than 60 years with a spouse, the adjustment to a quiet house is daunting.
Here’s the thing you’re not supposed to say: I look forward to living my final days by myself. That’s my reward for having put up with everyone else for the decades I will. Let me be clear, I love my family. Baby Daddy and my chickens make my life full and wonderful. I wouldn’t trade this time in my life for anything. But this is my phase, now. There will be others later. On days when the demands of taking care of clients, chickens, a husband and two dogs have left my bucket empty, I think about a time when I won’t have to take care of anyone else on a day-to-day basis.
I’m not supposed to write that. I’m supposed to write that I cannot imagine anything better than this right now. I’m supposed to say I don’t ever want it to be any different. I’m supposed to say there is nothing more wonderful than taking care of other people. It is no doubt an experience I would regret having missed. But it doesn’t have to be the only good part of my life.
Here’s my theory: The blessings of my life are many. The people who have poured themselves into me are innumerable. I have the duty to pay it forward. I plan to spend my life pouring as much of myself out into other people as I can. I will leave everything on the field. I will work, donate, volunteer and give all that is possible.
As one grows older, one becomes wiser and more foolish. ~François, Duc de La Rochefoucauld
Actuarially, Baby Daddy will die before me. That means I will have time at the end of my life to myself. I plan to sell this big house and move to a small condo where someone else will tend my yard. I will paint my walls pink or lavender or any other girly color that suits me. I will not worry about resale value. I will spend my days working, volunteering, interacting in some way with my community. But when I go to the grocery store, I’m not going to care what anyone else might want. I’m just gonna shop for me. I’m going to watch any trashy television show I might like without listening to catterwalling from Baby Daddy. I will not drive a Subaru station wagon. I will drive something cute and sporty. I will not have pets. The floor will not be scattered with toy cars. It will be scattered with amazing shoes that are all mine.
And it will be fabulous! If you’re really nice to me, I’ll let you visit.