I've been pondering loneliness lately. I spend a lot of time alone, yet am not lonely. You know, heart-breaking, tear-shedding, chocolate-eating lonely. Don't think I haven't been there though.
Before I had children, I was desperately lonely for the pitter-patter of little feet and the sweet smell of my baby's neck. The longer I struggled with infertility, the worse it was. Once the adoption papers were signed and the waiting game began to bring them from Korea, I would look up at that big old moon and tearfully wonder if they could see it too. Now my children are thriving adults and even when I miss them, I don't feel the same depth of loneliness.
After my divorce and before I began my life with Bob, I was lonely for a lover and a partner. Someone to dance with, share my day with and hold me when I was scared. I used to look up at the moon then too, wondering sadly if he was out there. It was the stuff good country songs were written about. Now I have my special someone and we connect in a way I never thought possible. So even when we are apart and I miss him, I am not lonely.
This is a season of my life when, surrounded by loving friends and family, I can wander off and still know they are holding me safe in their hearts. Realistically, there will probably be times in my life when I feel the hunger of loneliness again, but I am going to pretend that will never happen because I am older, wiser and stronger.
Just for today, I am grateful to be at ease with my sweet self.
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