Mind you, I've thought that before. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say I've completed another stage.
But something's shifted. I've moved more fully into acceptance, even embracing, of being alone. I like my life and my lifestyle. I like my home, and somehow I seem to fill it now without any need for company — other than my dear old black cat, who has adapted too. We are very content with each other, and have evolved new routines that suit our new circumstances.
I have a nice balance between my lovely, solitary, introverted activities at home — reading and writing, mostly — and socialising with my friends outside the home (and sometimes in it, too).
It's also nice that I live in a small town, where I've been for 20-odd years, so it's hard to walk down the street without seeing at least one or two people I know. That might involve a chat, a hug, or just a smile in passing. Whatever, it sure doesn't let one feel isolated or unloved! And walking into some shops and cafés, similarly, means encountering people I know as friends.
I have no family here, and sometimes think that when I am older, perhaps I should move closer to them. But while I'm still able to be independent, this is a good place for me.
I was quite sick recently, for a number of weeks, first with shingles then flu as well. I had to miss the market which augments my income — after missing several previous ones for other reasons. I asked my medical intuitive friend (who facetiously calls himself Da Wizard) if the Universe was sending me a message about not doing the markets any more.
He thought about it, then said, 'No, it doesn't seem to be permanent; but you need a rest right now. There's some more development ahead for you, more gifts to come in — but you're not quite ready yet. You haven't got over wanting Andrew to still be with you.'
I knew that last bit was true. Da Wizard advised me to resume meditating — which had lapsed almost unnoticed, as these good habits tend to do — so as to help myself progress faster.
So I did, and I rested, and I gradually got well. And then I noticed that the shift had happened.
I still think of Andrew, still talk to him, am still thankful every day that we married each other and had as long together as we did, and such a great life together ... but I'm OK now with my life being as it is now. I feel not only self-reliant but quite happy. Somehow life did go on, as we are always told it will, and has become enjoyable in its own right.
I am where I wanted to be, and aimed to be, after he died — thoroughly enjoying my own company.
(I still feel a teeny bit disloyal, even while knowing that's irrational, and that he wouldn't want me to ... but not very much.)
‘Six Word Saturday’ emanates from Call Me Cate’s blog, Show My Face.
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