Is it easier to be alone if you have always flown solo?

Saturday, as I was getting ready for the afternoon Mass, a migraine aura bloomed. For those who have never had one, it's like looking through a kaleidoscope, all flashing lights and jagged pieces. Did I dare try to drive? It should clear up in time for me to play the piano, but I shouldn't be on the road half blind. Barely able to see, I texted Martha to ask for a ride. I knew she would be leaving her house any second. She said yes. I waited on my chair outside, clinging to my books, as the flashing lights continued, even when I closed my eyes. In a few minutes, I climbed into her comfortable car. The vision problems persisted until halfway through the Mass, but they did pass eventually. Martha had plans, so Karen drove me home. These two church choir friends have saved me so many times. I struggled to send a text to ask for help because I could barely see the screen on my phone, but I am getting much better at saying, 'Hey, can you help me?' Not so long ago, I drove home from the store with a migraine aura. It was neither safe nor fun. This time I made the call. Asking for help was one of many topics I discussed with the readers who attended our Zoom gathering on Saturday. We had women from across the United States as well as from Canada and the United Kingdom. It was terrific to put faces to the names and learn more about each other. If you missed it, we'll do it again in October. A topic came up that I want to address here. Is it easier to be alone if you always have been, if you never married or had children? It's a little like that Tennyson quote, ''Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.' Is it more difficult to be on your own if you have spent most of your life with a family? Susan, who never married, said she has trouble understanding why some people, women mainly, have so much trouble doing things alone. You just do it. For those who have experienced a life with someone to lean on, it takes a while to adapt as you experience things alone for the first time: sleeping in an empty house, going to a show, eating at a restaurant, paying taxes, traveling, etc. I can see both sides of the question. I become impatient with people who say, 'I can't go because I have no one to go with' or 'I don't know how to do it by myself.' I want to say, 'Well, figure it out.' But that is unkind. There are a lot of things I don't know how to do, too. I have always lived an independent life, even when I was married. My newspaper career required me to step out of my comfort zone repeatedly. I always managed my own finances. My first husband was never home, and when he was, he worked nights, so I was on my own. Fred, bless his heart, worked all day for the first part of our marriage and lived in nursing homes the last two years, so I had lots of solo time. Never having kids left me free to do whatever I chose when I wasn't at work. I do get lonely, but I know how to take care of myself, and I'm not afraid to be alone. If a person who has never lived alone is suddenly dumped into a solo life, I can see how it would be hard. If they have never handled their finances or walked into a party by themselves, if they have never shopped or cooked for one, it has to be daunting. Add grief for the one who is missing. The quiet, the lack of someone to talk to, the fear of something going wrong with no one to help—it's not easy. One woman at the Zoom spoke of a widowed grandmother who flourished on her own. She happily did everything by herself. In contrast, my own maternal grandmother was completely helpless after Grandpa died. But she had her daughter, my mother, to help. That's how it worked for past generations. If their mom or dad was left alone, the kids were there to take care of things. Now, even if one has children, they may live hundreds of miles away, too far to help. Another Susan spoke of missing the intimacy of having a partner, something she has not found in her friends. They're close, but it's not the same. I miss that, too. There is a special something, not just sex, that you can't get from your friends. We all agreed we did not want to be married again or for the first time at this point. Ideally, we would like to have an intimate partner nearby for dates and help as needed, but definitely not living with us. We have either 'been there, done that' or 'never had it, never missed it.' I think it would be swell to have a special someone, a man I don't have to try to text when I can barely see. As long as I don't have to give them breakfast and they don't disturb me before noon. Wait, make that 1:00, so I can eat lunch and read in the sun or by the fireplace in peace. Wait, I need time to practice my music, too. 3:00? Oh hell, just let him take me out to dinner and a show once in a while. Maybe stay for a cuddle afterward. Then go home. But if I need him in a crisis, he should come running, just like in the movies. We did not come up with any definitive answers to my question on Saturday, so I'm asking you. If we have tasted intimacy and family life, do we always mourn for its loss and yearn to have it again? Is it more difficult to figure out how to live alone? Is it easier to be alone if you have never married or had children? Can you miss what you never had? I look forward to your comments. On Friday, I mentioned that someone had gotten hold of my credit union debit card number and charged $2900 on it. Yesterday, I got a message from Chase Bank about a fraudulent account on my Visa card. Two totally different banks. I use that visa for online purchases, mostly subscriptions. Chase stopped that one before I lost anything except my card. It will be a week before the new one comes with the new number. Meanwhile, I expect a lot of emails telling me my charges didn't go through. If I subscribe to your Substack and get unsubscribed for lack of payment, please understand. I will resubscribe when I can. I hope that's the end of the frauds, but I'm not counting on it. I'm adding security wherever I can. How did I end up alone? My first marriage ended in divorce. My second husband died of Alzheimer's disease after we had moved to the Oregon coast, far from family. I never had any kids, only dogs and cats. Now I live by myself in a big house in the woods. You can read our story in my memoir,No Way Out of This: Loving a Partner with Alzheimer's. If you'd like to read something lighter, the fourth novel in my Up Beaver Creek series is out now. Join PD and her friends on the Oregon Coast inBack to Ona Beach, available now wherever books are sold. Like so many of us, PD lives alone. Thanks for reading Can I Do It Alone? ! 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