"the more I think about loneliness, the more I think that the wound of loneliness is like the Grand Canyon - a deep incision in the surface of our existence which has become an inexhaustible source of beauty and self-understanding." Henri Nouwen
I see a lot of loneliness. I feel a lot of loneliness. A recently divorced woman tells me she lives in too much silence - it is the pain of her life. My haircutter has moved back to England because her kids have left home and she is lonely for her mom and her country. I miss her accent and her funky cuts. A man whose wife has become remote to him walks around like an empty iPod, no music, no light step, no life in his eyes.
I sleep beside Steve every night. I have done this for something over 12,000 nights. (There is a title for a dull movie, "12,000 nights." Laughing ) I like very much that he is beside me like a log, snoring or hogging blankets, or making me laugh.
Last night he said, before he fell asleep, "Has it turned out like you thought it would?" I said, "No. It is a lot better than I ever expected." He said, "Me too. I am very happy." Then I said, "If I die, it will probably be in my car. I hope the damage is not very much so you can get it fixed and give it to Rachel." He said, "If you die in your car I hope the damage is total, that the car is unrecoverable. If you die in your car I want to be able to think that you didn't feel a thing, that it was immediate, that you didn't suffer." I said,"Well then, use the insurance to buy Rae a new car."
This is the kind of conversation people who have slept together for 12,000 nights have. It doesn't mean we are never lonely. But it is nice to have someone around to tell when loneliness hits.