The Up Side of Down, Making Light of Loneliness

Lately, I’ve noticed many lonely souls hanging out in sad solitude. The single seaters at Starbucks poking at their computers or pretending to read the newspaper, the odd person eating alone at restaurants, the commuter train filled with folks entranced by their mini-video screens with nary a glance at fellow travelers. It’s easy to spot the single folks, especially if you are, like me, one of them. Which makes writing this post so easy.

Let me put a different spin on loneliness and offer its advantages:

1. Living alone means making the bed is optional rather than submit to the control freak compulsions of a significant other.

2. Bing alone means that making pancakes for breakfast on Friday at 9 p.m. requires no excuses.

3. Lonely people don’t have to share the last cookie not to mention feel the least bit guilty eating it.

4. Being alone means you can squeeze the toothpaste tube any darn way you want.

5. Alone means you can watch any television channel you want or those dvd’s you’ve been too embarrassed to share, and drink all the beer or eat all the ice cream you feel like in the comfort of your underwear,  without any snarky feedback except perhaps from the pleading eyes of your dog. Okay, if you’ve got a dog you can’t possibly be lonely and don’t need to read the rest of this list.

6. Being alone means you need not explain to anyone just why you feel like blowing up balloons and then stoping on them after a trying day at work.

7. Alone means you can change the color of lipstick you wear every day without your room mate asking “Is something the matter?”

8. Single means that when you order a medium pizza you suddenly have enough “food” to last two entire days.

9. Being alone makes grocery shopping so much easier. “Did she say Toasty Crunchies” or was it “Chocolate Crispies?”

10. There is a singular bliss in solitude knowing that you can fart however and whenever you want.

11. Sleeping alone means you don’t have to pretend you are sleeping when he/she comes home late wanting to talk. Another plus on the subject of sleep is that alone means you don’t have to worry about snoring, unless, like me, you snore so loud you wake yourself up.

12. Being alone means you already have the one audience who will always listen to you. Yourself.

13. Perhaps the greatest gift of being alone is that now you are absolutely, totally available to whatever opportunity comes along. This means that when that elder gentleman in the tuxedo and top hat walks up to lonely you sitting by yourself in the coffee shop and says, “Excuse me, I can see that you are lonely and my anonymous employer has authorized me to hand you this round the world travel ticket including a check for $500,000 to cover expenses. The only stipulation is you must leave this week and you must travel alone.”

Of course, you can have only one answer-

“Me?”

And lastly, being “alone” makes you part of one of the world’s biggest ironies-

Consider this, you are sitting in solitude, feeling down, hoping that your life will change. At this very moment, all around the planet, there are millions of fellow loners just like you, with similar thoughts. Conclusion: you are actually surrounded by a sea of fellow solos. None of you are even close to alone.

I’m waiting for someone to stand up in Starbucks and shout, “Hey! Is anybody else lonely here?”

I’m listening…

from Tio Stib’s archives, the empty times before he met his wonderful wife. No, it wasn’t at Starbucks.

 

My Dementia Diary 26 – Over the Rainbow

Some years ago, I was listening to the radio and the announcer said he’d just heard the most amazing voice and he had to share it. The voice was that of Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, an Hawaiian giant known as “Iz” to his many fans. I listened to his rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” and “It’s a Beautiful World” and cried. I felt like I was hearing Heaven singing to me. 

I often turn to music for solace and inspiration and count among my many blessings my collection of musical artist friends.

Here’s Iz singing as he plays the ukulele, which nearly disappears in his huge hands.

Yes, I do believe each of us has a special gift to share with the world.

tio stib

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The Lost American Porch

I once lived in a small town
in a small house with a front porch
a sheltered space protecting the entry door
a spot where I would hang out
sitting on a chair, sometimes the steps
drink a beer or lemonade
and simply enjoy the world passing by

a horn would honk, a friendly wave
kids would call out as they passed on their bicycles
neighbors walking dogs, hurrying home from work
“Hello!” 
“Good evening!”
“Nice to feel summer again.”
“Yes, aren’t the roses beautiful?”
“How’s your garden?”
“Beans and peas are up.”
“Going fishing Saturday?”
“Yup.”

these words and waves were the gold threads 
that wove a sense of connectedness , a feeling of belonging
through my life, a fabric seen and felt but not recognized in the moment

I’ve since moved, to bigger places, more complicated worlds
houses that now greet the street with cavernous carports
yawning doorways for cars beside small openings seldom used by people
and these places lack porches, no commitment to connect to the outside world
no attempt to simply sit and watch, to hear, to feel the pulse of community

I do miss the lost American porch

I miss the Americans who used to wave and talk as they passed by

tio stib

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My Dementia Diary 17 – Hiding the Cookies

My wife’s mind forgets many things but not cookies. when we enter the grocery store, “cookies?” is the first word off her lips, and she knows exactly where to find them in the bakery. Admittedly, I too have a fondness for such sweets, especially the chocolate chip ones, which is why cookies often find their way into our grocery bag.

The challenge comes when we return home, when we must resist the urge to eat all the sweets at once. I’ve tried rationing them, handing out a small amount each day, but, I soon discovered that the cookies were disappearing faster than my rationing had anticipated. Obviously, they were being eaten at other times. Obviously, my wife’s cookie needs were overriding my desire to limit caloric intake.

I decided to hide the cookie tin. First, I placed it in the cupboard, behind the cereal. The cookies kept disappearing. then, I put the tin on top of the refrigerator, assuming my wife would not see them. A few minutes later, she came up and offered me several. It’s hard to be secretive in a single room apartment.

My latest hiding place is in the oven, an appliance we never use. So far, the cookie stash has remained a secret, and the tin may even last the week. Apparently, the phrase “out of sight, out of mind,” bears some truth.

However, I no longer can blame my wife for the continuing cookie disappearance.

tio stib

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Insomnia

there are moments when
I dream in peace
a mind released to roam
then others when
the clock grinds on
and night becomes a tomb

I lay now in eternal night
awaiting mindless deep
a craving need to somehow get
a decent hour’s sleep

tio stib
2015, 2018

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My Dementia Diary 16 – Good News, Bad News, Where is My Solitude

For years, I dreamed of a partner with whom I could share all of life, the joys and the hardships, someone who would be willing and able to take off on a moment’s notice to places unknown simply because it seemed to be a great idea at the time.

Finally, I was blessed with just this partner, and, for one year, we had the magic life together that I’d always dreamed of.

That was a year of unsurpassed bliss and those memories still bring me smiles. However, as so often happens, our road together took an unexpected turn. I lost my sight and she began losing her mind.

And, so, we’ve adapted.

We no longer drive miles from home, but limit our roaming to walking local walking wanderings. It has gotten to the point that I no longer feel comfortable leaving her alone, and, as I’m her only caregiver, this means we’re together all the time, always. Fortunately, my wife has a naturally cheerful disposition and she’s easily guided into whatever activity we need to be doing, from daily walks to grocery shopping. The biggest challenge is my personality, the fact that, for most of my life, I’ve enjoyed times of solitude.

While I’ve treasured sharing adventures with friends, from sailing trips to hikes to new restaurants, when no one was available, I went off on my own. And I loved it!! As has been often shared by others, solitude is not loneliness, it is the beauty and peace of being alone. I have fond recollections of such solitude times, from solo hikes and sailing trips to simply sitting on a beach at sunset. Quiet moments when I could hear stars talking to each other.

Given my wife’s new need for constant companionship, I am finding new ways to give myself the gift of solitude. As she has the envious ability to fall asleep in seconds, I often listen to those imagined stars deep into the night waiting for drowsiness to creep over my mind. Or, I’ll sit outside in the morning sunshine, letting the sweet scent of nearby Jasmine float through me, recalling other dreams of times gone by.

Solitude is soul food, and, as always, it’s up to me to feed myself.

tio stib

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My Dementia Diary 15 – Ice cream

There is one thing my wife’s mind continues to remember with humorous frequency.

Ice cream.

She will forget what I told her five minutes ago, forget birthdays, including her own, but she does not forget ice cream. In the middle of the afternoon, when it’s time for a break, she will approach and coyly ask,

“ice cream?”

Hard to say “no” to such childlike innocence. And, so, we walk down to our favorite ice cream stop at the local pharmacy. She’s all smiles, giggling and excited, even though she’ll ask me several times on the way

“where are we going?”

she doesn’t remember a favorite flavor, but tries to pronounce all the names at the ice cream counter. animal Circus. cookie dough. Pistachio. Butter Pecan, and on, and on. She can’t make up her mind so I’ll pick one for her, knowing all that matters is an ice cream cone in hand.

then we wander out  to sit on a sun drenched bench and savor our treats, one delicious lick at a time. 

And I say a silent prayer of gratitude that she can still come to me and ask,

“ice cream?”

tiostib

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