Awhile back my third child walked into my house….sat down…and in a casual manner said, “Mom, I mean this as a compliment….but, if there’s anyone who could ever be OK living alone….. it’d be you.”  WOW!  That stopped me in my tracks…but then again, NOT!  Being married to a trucker for 37 years had, to some degree, already prepared me.

And then COVID happened.  All staff were ordered to stop reporting to the physical location on March 13^th.  It required creativity and persistence to continue working since I live in a rural area with minimal internet service, which I needed to perform my job.

And now…. 8 months later, I’ve come across a long article, HOW TO BE ALONE, by Sigal Samuel.  Samuel discusses both benefits and dangers of being alone, giving examples of those who’ve survived solitary confinement vs those choosing to live as hermits….how some didn’t merely survive but actually grew as individuals.…Sigal also addressing the other people who can barely survive being alone  because of past unresolved issues that immediately surface in some adverse settings.

I’ve watched co-workers and family deeply struggle with the social and economic adjustments that COVID has forced upon our state. To a moderate degree I can relate to the social-emotional frustrations although I must be honest and say:  “Thankfully, I cannot understand…. completely”. 

Since March, I have periodically pondered if something is wrong with me…..even considering that being a widow for five years MAY have prepared me for this…… or maybe just being who I already WAS had helped me adjust quicker to living with “COVID isolation”……

Nonetheless, I believe the following has held true for me. THROUGH MY BEING A WIDOW:

~ I had already learned I needed to maintain a consistent daily routine to counteract depression

~ I had already become used to spending large amounts of time alone

~ I had already become accustomed to not having daily hugs, much personal verbal affirmation and close physical contact with people, unless with my best friends and immediate family

~ I had already learned to watch more TV shows and listen to music for pleasure and companionship

~ I had already realized attending church (in the building) wasn’t the end-all answer for me

~ I had already discovered how a small group of people fulfilled my need for weekly comradeship and Bible Study

~ I had already learned to rely on phone calls, texting, and social networking

~ To manage my stress level, the local morning news was limited to one hour

~ I had already learned a person can teach themselves how to not only survive but to eventually grow in and through daunting times.

~ I had already taken to heart my Primary Physician’s immediate advice after Loren passed, “Julia, be careful that you don’t become a hermit…you could (too easily) do that….”

Other than feeling like I am a muzzled horse walking around in a Sci-Fi movie, I’m thankful I live in a rural community where I’m not forced to daily see hundreds of masked people who look like old-western-movie-robbers casing a place.

Other than my hands becoming chapped and cracked from washing my hands 20x a day at my on-site job (literally), I’m grateful I don’t have to be concerned about multiple family members carrying random germs into my house.

Other than feeling incredibly sympathetic for the parents who suddenly are having to school their children at home, the parents who have either lost their jobs or the parent who has been forced to quit their job so they can school their child at home…… I am flat grateful that I raised my four adult children years ago.  Granted, I’d be capable of Home-schooling but our stress levels would be off the charts. 

If being a widow actually helped prepare me for life-as-it-is-now I guess I can be thankful.