Posted in Ordinary Holiness

Jennifer, Table for One

I have lots of friends who are single. Many of them have been single for years.

For me, it’s been 2.5 years of singleness.

And I’m noticing something.

I do big things alone, now.

There are a hundred thousand little things I do now as a single person that are slightly different. I’m finally learning not to buy the family pack of chicken breasts and to stop checking the price of espresso (which I never drank, but Ken loved). I don’t wonder who is going to start the dishwasher or get the mail every day or put the trash by the curb every week. I manage all the bills and taxes and HSA account balance. The little day-to-day pieces of life, I have slowly put in place. Messily, to be sure. This scatter-y mind of mine doesn’t sort and make workable systems very well. But, over the last couple years, I’ve figured out how to shove the little tasks into piles I can recognize and manage. It’s a good life, this little household of huskies and their mama.

And then…this week, I felt very single.

While waiting for the tow truck to arrive and give my battery a jump-start yesterday, I had some time to pay attention to what I was feeling. Weary. That’s what I came up with. I felt weary because I had managed some big things this week…alone.

My son got married a week ago today. It was beautiful, and everyone was sparkling. I had tissues with me – because weddings – and I thought I’d be a blubbery mess. But, I wasn’t a mess; I was amazed. I walked down the aisle in my mother-of-the-groom dress with Jenna’s beautiful mom, Mary Lynn, and took my seat next to my darling mother. I reminded myself to really pay attention, to leave the program on the pew (it doesn’t matter if you know what comes next), to watch Jenna and her daddy walk down the aisle toward a new chapter, to look at my kid’s face when he made some whopper promises, to marvel at his sister’s beauty and maturity standing there among the bridesmaids, to love every word my mother’s lips formed as she opened The Velveteen Rabbit and read about being real, to be so grateful for my big brother, Karl, standing next to me.

It was extraordinary.

But, it was also amazingly clear that I am single. When Micah was born and I started dreaming about his life, I imagined standing next to his dad on the porch when Micah drove away on his first date, sitting next to him at Micah’s choral concerts, holding Tom’s hand while we bore witness to our kid marrying the person of his dreams. But, it didn’t happen that way. And, as it turns out, Ken wasn’t there, either.

At my son’s wedding, I was flanked by my brother and my mother, two of God’s best pieces of work. But, that wasn’t really the plan.

When I got home from the wedding on Sunday evening, I was pretty sure I was getting the cold about which I’d been saying, “I don’t have time to get sick!” for about a week. By Monday morning, I was feverish and achy. It’s the first time I’ve been sick since my nest emptied a couple months ago. And it turns out that even when you are sick, your dogs need to be fed and let in and out to do their business…and they are lousy at getting you a glass of ice water or another box of tissues from your stockpile in the shed.

The week was one of tissues and cough drops and naps and gallons of hot tea…and by Friday morning, I really wasn’t better, so I went to the doctor, so she could tell me it was a virus about which she could really not do much. But, she wrote me a prescription for a nasal spray she hoped would help with congestion, and I went to Walgreen’s to have it filled. Cleverly, I left my headlights on while I went in and waited for the prescription to be filled, so then I got to wait for the tow truck to jumpstart my car.

And while I was sitting in my car, waiting for the tow truck, I texted my mom about my predicament. She texted back that my dad said if my battery died that quickly, I might need a new one. So, I knew my plan for a quick trip to the doctor and then crawling back to bed had to be scrapped.

And I thought, “If Ken were here, he would bring me his car, tell me to go home and crawl into bed, manage the tow-truck-jump-start, and go to AutoZone and get a new battery.”

Right there, in my juiceless car, I realized I was weary from doing big things alone. All the feelings of Micah’s wedding and all the fatigue from managing life while sick…and now a car thing…these things are things often made easier with the right partner.

Of course, I’m not alone. Not by a longshot.

  • Because I was flanked by my big brother and my darling mother while my son made promises and my daughter bore beautiful witness (not to mention my cousins, aunt, sister-in-law, niece, and beloved friends).
  • Because Linda, Eileen, Stan, Patrick, and others all checked on me this week while I was sick.
  • Because I got to share meals and great conversation with Katy, Jake, and Ann this week.
  • Because my mom is always a call or text away…with dad’s sound advice about a battery chiming in.
  • Because my oldest brother, James, called this week to ask how the mother-of-the-groom was doing, how my heart felt.

I’m absolutely not alone.

But, I’m noticing more and more that I am definitely single.

5 thoughts on “Jennifer, Table for One

  1. Yes, singleness is definitely different from being coupled. And, yes, it definitely has its moments – or hours or days- of loneliness and frustration. And, yes, it can be exhausting at times being the only one to take care of things. And you’re new at it, lovey…so give yourself a break. Actually, many breaks. It’s only accomplished a step at a time, a day at a time. And don’t forget, my door is always open, the kettle can be quickly put on for tea, and you will find here a listening ear and a friendly shoulder and a heart that understands.

    Like

  2. You are, as always, precisely descriptive. Thanks for expressing what this life is. And praise God for those who love us and help out– if only admit we need someone.

    Liked by 1 person

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