Most days, I sit in a chair by the window. From the window, I can see the elementary school that is at the end of my street. I like to listen to the school bell ring at seven forty, and then again at eight am, when school officially starts. My kids went to the school and when they come back to visit, they will go over to the playground and sit on the swings or rock on the duck that has a large spring attached to concrete. I won’t see the kids and grandkids for another six months, their lives are so busy, and with all the hassles of a growing family, they can only come for a visit during the holidays.
I have someone cut the lawn and I have a house cleaner who also does my weekly shopping. I appreciate it when Claire comes and cleans. We spend a lot of the time chatting, I will follow her around as she cleans the bathrooms, and dusts the furniture. I talk louder when she vacuums. After every visit, I make sure I tip her extra. I always ask her to stay for lunch, but she has other clients, so she turns me down. When she leaves, the house settles into the quiet that is only heard by someone living alone.
When I was younger, all I wanted was a place of my own, without the distraction of brothers and sisters and a father with a temper. Now, I wish for a little more sound in these rooms, it’s not that I am anxious being alone, it is more I realize that without another person nearby, I don’t know what I feel about things, I don’t have a reference for what is happening. I get lost in the thoughts and before I know it is four in the afternoon and it’s time for my supper.
I wish I had another life I could live in parallel and bounce between them, chasing the dreams and fulfilling my purpose. A silly fantasy of youth I say to myself as I listen to the sparrow sing a song of loneliness, searching for its mate and the only one that hears is an old man, soon to be forgotten.