I was sitting here pondering my situation when I realized that this is really the first time I have ever lived completely alone. Until I got married, even though I worked and supported myself, I lived with my parents in order to help look after my mother. Unlike many women out there I didn't go to college as I had planned, or spend time in an apartment alone or with a roommate after I left home. The closest I came to that was when I was 13, and I ran away from home with my best friend and neighbor who was 12. We carefully planned our escape. We told our parents we wanted to take the train to the bigger town near us to buy new clothes. We had worked our butts off all summer chipping cotton and doing other hard jobs to have some money, so our parents agreed to let us go on the train to buy new clothes with that hard earned money.
We took what they thought were empty suitcases with us to put the new clothes they thought we were going to buy in. We did take the train to the next town, got off of it, and promptly hitchhiked nearly 2000 miles to the coast. When the cops finally caught up with us, we had jobs and our own apartment. Unfortunately, or fortunately, however you want to look at it, it only took them 3 weeks to catch up with us. I do remember how impressed the police officers were with the fact we were living quite well on our own, and showing more responsibility than many adults. I don't remember much else except how much fun we had fixing up the shabby apartment we thought was the neatest place in the world, and going to work each night at the onion factory where we bagged onions. Hey, it was a job! Maybe not the sweetest smelling job in the world, but it would pay our rent, buy us food, and other things.
So, here I am so many years later, with a much nicer home, a lot better job, and no best friend or roommate living with me. And to be really honest, I like it like that. I am not sitting here all alone and forlorn, but I am quite comfortable with the alone time I do have here. Yes I am still grieving, and that will continue. But, I am more comfortable now saying that I am learning to enjoy being completely on my own. It's a tragic tradeoff I didn't want, but since I'm stuck with it, yes I am going to learn to enjoy having the place to myself, and being able to do whatever I want to it.
For nearly 40 years I devoted myself to creating a good home for Larry and I. Now, I've created within this RV, the perfect home for me to adapt to widowhood in. I have a nice little kitchen, a living/dining room, a lovely main bathroom, and my very own lady's cave complete with a half bath in it. What more could I ask for? Especially, since I am surrounded by such good friends.
