Lonely, But Not Alone

Loneliness doesn’t come from just being alone.  You can be surrounded by people and feel lonely.   You can be alone and not feel lonely at all.  So far, I’ve kept myself as far as possible from feeling lonely.  I have 4 kids, so I’m always surrounded, that helps a lot.  I’ve taken on project after project, most out of necessity, but nonetheless willingly because they keep my busy. With my mind occupied my heart doesn’t have much space to feel, or heal for that matter.

Except that healing also happens in the processes in the projects and the business.  I know what I’m doing.  I’m trying to out run loneliness.  The feeling of being alone.  Yes, I do a lot of things alone, but I don’t mind that.  I really like being alone.  I like being alone with myself, so being alone doesn’t make me feel lonely.

The extra space I’m creating in my life to have the life I really want, that’s what’s brought up the loneliness.  It’s the reality of that space that’s not filled that is the first tap on my shoulder tonight that, not only am I alone, but tonight I’m feeling lonely.  It’s been 18 months and I still haven’t felt lonely, because I’ve been able to out run it till now. 

I’m tired.  I can’t run anymore.  I want to slow down, I want to mourn and grieve and heal finally.   I thought if I put it off long enough, time would just do its job and “heal all things” as the saying goes.  It’s not my truth.  Time does not heal.  You do, meaning I do.  Time is what it takes to make it reality, but now I know as long as I run away, it’ll be right there waiting for me to take it on once I stop. 

Tonight, it’s time to stop.  My body is telling me it’s time to stop, to rest, to be, to feel, to let it all come.   Don’t be afraid to hurt, it says.  But it’s been over a year, closer to two years now and that alone blows my mind.  Yet the nudge to turn around and look at it pierces my heart again.  I know that I can no longer outrun this pain. 

It’s time to stop and face it.  Now it’s time to be brave, to not be afraid of pain.  If I can embrace it, that’s how I can really heal.  How my heart can become whole again.  So it’s time to do the work.  Now is the time to heal all my things and only I can do it, not time.  I realize the longer I run, the longer I’ll hurt and I’m tired of hurting.  I want to love again, not be stuck in the agony of denial and resistance that shows me how truly real it all is. 

So then… Stop.  Face.  Embrace.  Brave. Go.  Be. Do.  This is it.  Only stepping into this truth, the one that says I’ve got to do the work, process, get it out, that’s the work now.  I can keep running as long as I want, but I won’t get anywhere if I never stop.  So tonight, I’m stopping, in the loneliness. 

And then my youngest walked up to me and said:  “I’m sleeping in your bed mom.”  He says things with a big smile that really lights up the space he occupies and far beyond.  I said ok tonight because well, I want him to cuddle next to me.  Tonight I feel at ease.   I’m not stressed.  I don’t particularly need alone time.  It’s late enough that I know he’ll fall asleep quickly.  I’m tired too so the idea of getting into bed at 8:45 (past his bedtime and a little too early for me) sounds nice. 

I just haven’t decided yet what I want.  Do I want privacy and alone time at night?  Or do I want to let my kids in my bed and keep them close?  I really do need that quiet time. But then, I love having them next to me.  They seem to want to sleep in my bed more and more, and I usually let them. 

Tonight it was declared, “I’m sleeping in your bed,” and not, “mom can I sleep in your bed?”  Nope it was a declaration tonight.  He did last night and the beauty is, he sleeps longer and falls asleep more quickly when he’s in my bed.  So tonight, I decided that yes, I want you to sleep in my bed.  I want to feel a warm body next to mine and your sweet chubby little arms and legs, already getting too long for being really chubby, are just what I want tonight.  Because I feel lonely. 

For most of the time you’ve been gone Grant, I’ve stayed as far away as I possibly can from lonely.  Lonely is different from being alone.  I haven’t been alone much either and when I am, I’m grateful for it.  I need alone time to be with myself, to find myself and be who I am. I need time to be me not as a mom or business owner or any of the many other hats I wear.  Since I keep myself so busy, I really haven’t felt lonely till today.

I’m still not alone, but the loneliness of doing this without you hit me with a finality tonight.  In my loneliness, the kind I’m feeling tonight, it feels good not to be alone.  So Jayce, your sweet little head calms me as we read, “Goodnight Moon,” a favorite of mine when I was a little one.  I loved the sound of my mother’s voice reading it to me at night.  Now I see you loving the sound of my voice reading it to you. 

As I read it, I feel the warmth of your soft body wrapped up in jammies and us in our favorite cozy blanket.  I can feel your back against my tummy and it curves in the same shape as me.  We fit together.  Your head is on my arm and I can feel your calm breaths rhythmically pulsing as I read and your eyes open and close. 

We get toward the end of the story and your lashes stop opening and closing so quickly, they slow down, then stop.  Your eyes are closed.  Then they flutter open one more time or two then, that slow rhythmic breath takes over.  The rising and falling of your chest I can feel against my ribs.  There you are.  Sleeping.  Watching you fall asleep is one of my favorite things. 

I relish the moment, then pick you up and place you on the other side of the bed.  I’m about to get out of bed and finish my night of alone time when loneliness pricks my heart and I crawl back into the covers. I pick you up and hold you close to me one more time.  Listening to your breath and watching your lips pucker now that you’re fully asleep.  I just get to relish the sight of you and the soothing it brings to my lonely heart. 

Thank you again my boy for being there.  Tonight’s a little warmer and cozier for me because you’re here.  I’m not alone in my bed.  I’m not alone in my life, and I’m not alone in the loneliness that I’m going to let run through my body so that I can wake up tomorrow and feel new again. So I can wake up a little more healed because I didn’t run away this time.  I’m going to let the loneliness in tonight and the blessing is that I don’t have to do this alone tonight. I got this, I got you, and you’ve still got me.