January 31, 2018
“So, how do you like life as a single?” Sue my water aerobics instructor cheerfully asked me, as I sat in the hot tub, my arthritic left knee bent to receive the warm jets. She was standing above me, ready to take the next class, my 8:00 am class having finished.
I was so gobsmacked by the question that I do not know what I answered. I babbled some reply, and Sue went back to the pool to teach her class. She had commented to me once or twice that I seemed strong and independent. Perhaps she admired that. She is ten years younger than I, and married.
Bill died over seven years ago, and I never have thought of myself as single. I am a widow. I am on my own, but I did not choose to be this way. Maybe those who are single do not choose to be so, either, but I think they have more say in their situation. Bill and I were married for 45 years, and his death from cancer ripped the fabric of our married life in two.
On most forms that ask for marital status there is a box for widowed. Except on the income tax returns; there I have to check off Single, and I resent that.
So how do I like life as a single? I get to do what I want, when I want, without consulting my husband. I get to hold a holiday open house by myself, without consulting the resident introvert. I get to stay up late and watch a movie, without Bill saying, “Are you still up?” I get to plan overseas travel to suit myself. And I get to worry about the woodpeckers drilling holes in the siding alone, and worry about my upcoming surgery alone. I get to pay all the bills, and worry if there will be enough money. I get to celebrate my birthday alone.
And I miss Bill every day.
*Title of American Folk Song
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