"Life is full of misery, loneliness, and suffering, and it's all over much too soon." Woody Allen
Since August 2, 2017, I have lived alone. That is roughly 2,180 mornings that I have woken up to an empty house, empty that is except for me. Once or twice, a solitary visitor stayed here overnight, once I slept in another house supervising a still-young grandchild, and I stayed in a hotel with family one other time, in my own room.*
Going to bed at night in an empty house is a stark adjustment, though at least you're totally aware of the loss, but waking up is more wrenching as the sleep state gradually turns to wakefulness, and full awareness of your solitary existence. We usually went to bed at different times and not always in the best of moods, but always, always, he said Good Morning. And that's what I miss the most.
Thoughts and feelings play havoc with each other, and time warp exists. The days can seem long, dreary and endless, but the weeks and months and years speed by. Woody Allen had insight.
* And I spent a week's worth of nights divided between February and November of 2023 at Samaritan Hospital.
No comments:
Post a Comment