This morning, I’m going to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade all by myself. Maybe I’ll get out my favorite teddy bears to sit with me. Sure, Ron’s here, but it’s not his thing. We don’t have the kind of relationship that imposes ‘not my things’ on each other merely for the sake of company.
It’s funny. Once you realize you’re alone you not only start referring to yourself in the third person, but you feel the loneliness. And it sucks.
I’m not interested in constantly surrounding myself with people, but I am looking forward to spending time with other humans later. For some reason, my carefully constructed solo existence is worn thin today.
This is significant for me. Yes, I am at a point in my life where I truly enjoy the company of others, but it is always a clear and distinct decision to do so. This morning, it feels like an urge.
Where the hell did this come from? Is my Scroogey little black heart melting? Is it a sign of age? I have been a died-in-the-wool hermit for most of my life. Now, all of a sudden, I want to pick up the phone and call my sister. The evil voice on my shoulder is urging me to call now – there’s a 2-hour time difference and I’m sure I’d wake her up. After all, I’ll always be the bratty little sister.
Gotta go get ready for the parade. My bears are on the dresser.
Susan Scot Fry
Update… Wow, this had to be one of the saddest sounding blogs I’ve ever written. I’m sorry to have layered a shadow over thanksgiving festivities, but it was honest.