I don't know why the poem about people coming into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime came to me out of the blue last night. Not only did those words come to me as I was trying to fall asleep, but the same feeling I had the first time I heard them washed over me.
I remember that first time vividly. It was over a decade ago, and reading it filled me such sadness all I could do was weep. Just the thought of a dear friend I had at the time only being a part of my life for a reason or a season filled me with such heartache. I remember telling myself we would be lifetime friends, but I had a sinking feeling it was temporary. I was right.
My friend was such a huge part of my life. I remember her coming into my life like she had a purpose. We knew each other through our church, but it was a casual friendship. It grew into much more when I suffered a serious loss. Her friendship helped me through a horribly dark period.
We did everything together. The four of us - she and her husband and me and mine - travelled and spent most of our time doing things as a unit. We never ran out of things to do or talk about. We spent holidays together and celebrated our children's accomplishments and milestones.
I'm not sure how it all fell apart. One day everything was fine and the next thing I knew, they were moving away. Far away. Now, we barely speak.
Loneliness. It's like a smothering sensation that grips you when you least expect it and takes your breath away. I remember having surgery when I was a kid. Back in the dark ages when they still used ether. I will never forget the sensation when they slapped that ether-soaked mask over my face. I couldn't breathe. I had the sense I was being rolled up in that green, outdoor carpeting and I could not escape. I just wanted fresh air. That's the way loneliness hits me.
I am alone. My husband works and my children are grown with lives of their own. I have few friends - almost none. My only connection to the outside world is social media. I don't belong to any groups and I rarely leave the house. I suffer from chronic pain which makes even a trip to the store a major chore.
I live in my own little world surrounded by my animal friends. There are the two Bullmastiffs - Jack and Rooney. Six cats: Eli, Fancy, Finn, Chance, Dash and Boo. A bunny named Roxy, a hamster named Emily Elizabeth and a Bearded Dragon named Bennett. Then there are the feral kitties I feed. I am surrounded by life and love - just no human interaction.
My husband works very hard and wants to retire soon. He comes home from work and reads on his I-Pad or just wants to watch TV. Truth be told, he talks to his dog more than he does me. Our conversations are limited to discussions about the kids or the house. He stopped asking me how I am because he knows the answer. I'm in constant pain.
So, as I was lying in bed trying to shake the feeling of loneliness, it hit me that, when I die, there will be very few people at my funeral. If my husband outlives me, he will be there with our two kids. My cousin had 800 people at his funeral. He was well loved.
I shall forgo a funeral and just have my husband spread my ashes around the yard. This is my world, and I have been happy here. Yikes! Now I feel so low it's almost funny. I know I'll be okay when I can see the absurdity in feeling sorry for myself. I've had a good run. Yes, this sucks, but it could be worse. I could be a Republican...
I remember that first time vividly. It was over a decade ago, and reading it filled me such sadness all I could do was weep. Just the thought of a dear friend I had at the time only being a part of my life for a reason or a season filled me with such heartache. I remember telling myself we would be lifetime friends, but I had a sinking feeling it was temporary. I was right.
My friend was such a huge part of my life. I remember her coming into my life like she had a purpose. We knew each other through our church, but it was a casual friendship. It grew into much more when I suffered a serious loss. Her friendship helped me through a horribly dark period.
We did everything together. The four of us - she and her husband and me and mine - travelled and spent most of our time doing things as a unit. We never ran out of things to do or talk about. We spent holidays together and celebrated our children's accomplishments and milestones.
I'm not sure how it all fell apart. One day everything was fine and the next thing I knew, they were moving away. Far away. Now, we barely speak.
Loneliness. It's like a smothering sensation that grips you when you least expect it and takes your breath away. I remember having surgery when I was a kid. Back in the dark ages when they still used ether. I will never forget the sensation when they slapped that ether-soaked mask over my face. I couldn't breathe. I had the sense I was being rolled up in that green, outdoor carpeting and I could not escape. I just wanted fresh air. That's the way loneliness hits me.
I am alone. My husband works and my children are grown with lives of their own. I have few friends - almost none. My only connection to the outside world is social media. I don't belong to any groups and I rarely leave the house. I suffer from chronic pain which makes even a trip to the store a major chore.
I live in my own little world surrounded by my animal friends. There are the two Bullmastiffs - Jack and Rooney. Six cats: Eli, Fancy, Finn, Chance, Dash and Boo. A bunny named Roxy, a hamster named Emily Elizabeth and a Bearded Dragon named Bennett. Then there are the feral kitties I feed. I am surrounded by life and love - just no human interaction.
My husband works very hard and wants to retire soon. He comes home from work and reads on his I-Pad or just wants to watch TV. Truth be told, he talks to his dog more than he does me. Our conversations are limited to discussions about the kids or the house. He stopped asking me how I am because he knows the answer. I'm in constant pain.
So, as I was lying in bed trying to shake the feeling of loneliness, it hit me that, when I die, there will be very few people at my funeral. If my husband outlives me, he will be there with our two kids. My cousin had 800 people at his funeral. He was well loved.
I shall forgo a funeral and just have my husband spread my ashes around the yard. This is my world, and I have been happy here. Yikes! Now I feel so low it's almost funny. I know I'll be okay when I can see the absurdity in feeling sorry for myself. I've had a good run. Yes, this sucks, but it could be worse. I could be a Republican...
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