I’m on my 63rd day of staying at home. Except for walks around the block where all my neighbors appear to be dead or asleep, I’ve been out only four times. And then I was masked. But, just today, I’ve arrived at being fed up with this situation. I’ve sorted, cleaned, vacuumed, read, written, blogged, phoned, texted, Zoomed, and read hundreds of emails suggesting activities I can check into online. But I’m so done with all that. Just let me out so I can fly. Let me out so I can meet a friend for lunch. Let me out so I can interact with a live person who’s not inside a rectangle on my screen.
I’ve read all about the dangers of loneliness. I’m not really lonely because I’ve filled my days with interesting things. I’ve been happy to get a lot of things done that I didn’t have or take the time to do before. It’s just that I miss the experience of being less than six feet away from a live person. I miss the smells, the touching, the feelings that accompany a live encounter of hanging out with a friend. It’s like I miss something an acquaintance told me when my husband died two years ago after 56 years of marriage: “You’ll miss that someone to hang out and do nothing with.”
If you’d like to come over and socially distance a cup of coffee with me, I’m here, and I’m not bonkers. Yet. I still have a sense of humor, and I’d love to hang out with you for awhile. And do nothing but absorb the gift of each other’s live presence.
ElderChicks 
Exactly my feelings entirely. I do plenty of things on my own and I am not, by nature, lonely, as I love my own company. However I do also miss being out and about in the city I live in, meeting and talking with people, walking all over the city, attending things and looking at things without being paranoid I am too close or in danger. I take a walk a week. I’ve been quarantined since March 3 at the request of both my doctor and my youngest daughter who is a doctor! I have complied! I always wear a mask as soon as I leave my door, I now have a face shield as well! I also maintain distance. I am pretty good at entertaining myself and at 71 this writer/loner is still challenged by this season. The thing I miss most is crowding in restaurants and coffee shops and theaters, observing, listening and talking with people–mostly strangers. I miss traveling by train downtown or around the loop, walking down State Street and bopping into stores to shop and gossip with sales people. It is the small stuff you miss the most. But mostly I miss not feeling scared to be outside. I feel responsible for the people who don’t wear masks and there are plenty of them in Chicago, and I also feel scared of them too. The virus has invited us to replenish ourselves with a new reality.
Allison, as I implied in my response to your post, you and I are on the same page. Oh what fun it would be to chat away! In person! Lois
Wow! Lois Roelofs and Allison Fine! Two of our most treasured writers, always to be counted on for a sane perspective that accentuates the positive. (I hope you remember that Johnny Mercer song, ladies.) Although you are unlikely to know each other in the physical world, I wonder if the Chicago experience you have in common has contributed to your grounded outlooks. You certainly contribute to mine. Lois: from early days on this blog and your own. I share all the feelings you both express so eloquently and am grateful for your presence in the world.
“Elder Chicks”! Thanks for your kind words. You may be right re Chicago! Mingling among the crowded (and exciting) flow of Michigan Ave fosters a kind of resilience, but also an intense interest in the diversity of people. That’s what I’m missing even more now. Those face-to-face meetups. Lois
I take another approach. I am cranky with all of those that miss their former lives. Of course, we all do. That was then; this is now. If for the collective good, that is All of us, we must hunker down and do more than 6 feet, then do it. If you were in WW1 or 2 it would have been years. Stop whining. We will get through this.
Karin, the world needs more people like you! Concerned about the common good. Reminding us of others who’ve had it much worse. And I might add those now who have it much worse than those of us who can shelter safely and have few worries. I like “cranky.” I’m cranky too when I see people nonchalantly walking around with no masks and making noise about “my rights.” Lois
I actually woke up this morning, Karin, thinking about the word “cranky.” I move through much of the day alternating between my own shock at how irritable I am, so cranky at the sight of an unmasked stranger in my city neighborhood, and then reminding myself that I have nothing to whine about and realize it’s the collective good and the plight of others that matters. (I do find an occasional Hershey’s Kiss soothing.)
Boy you sure hit it on the head with this post. I keep the TV on just to see other faces. I’d come over for that cup of coffee, but Connecticut is a long way. Thanks for the great read though.
Yes, I guess you are too far away! Too bad! Lois
Where do you live
I live in South Dakota. Where do you live? Lois
I too lost my husband over 2 years ago. I !Ive alone in a small apartment. I stay home mostly but have taken drives and sat in my car by a local lake. I keep busy by playing games on my tablet, reading my bible, praying and talking on the phone with family and friends. I have peace from God and find things that are funny to laugh out loud about. I trust this lockdown won’t last much longer.
Carol, my days are similar to yours. I, too, rely on my faith to get me though and give me strength. My kids and I can actually joke it’s maybe good Dad isn’t here. He was not a sitter; it would have been hard for him to stay at home. This widowhood state, though, is a whole new experience after sharing heart and soul with another person for many years. I miss my ever-present sounding board as I imagine you do too. Wishing you a good day! Lois
Coffee in the driveway? Give me a day and time and I’ll bring coffee/tea and be over. Exciting to have something on a very empty calendar! My introvert self is content to be alone and un-busy. My extrovert self is hankering for people to see and places to go!
Carol,
Super! I’ll call you. As soon as we have a nice day. Next week, hopefully.
Lois
Lois,
This post really made me feel something. I really miss those face to face interactions that kept my days bright. Even something as simple as going to the post office! My neighbor Tess uses an online therapist through this company called wellqor. She says it helps her talk through the tough times. I might try to do the same since I haven’t seen my kids in a couple months.