From This Broken

I hear the phrase repeated often, occasionally from my own mouth.
“I’m accustomed to being alone; this is not so different,.”

And of course, there’s validity there. Most of my peers lost their spouses and/or partners at least a. decade ago.

We coped. We maintained the facade of independence living in the family manse until moving on and eventually relinquishing yesterdays.

At least, we gave ourselves the image of coping, and to a degree we did. We tried to ask for as little help as humanly possible except occasionally from strangers, who wore the disguise of Handymen.

However, this is different, We no longer live alone in rambling cape cods or solitary split levels. We are able to pick up a phone and call for either a meal or even a drink, if that is our inclination.
Yet, this isolation is totally unknown, and I am at a bit of a loss to comprehend the reason.

Is it the fear of tomorrow or possibly the fear of a new world where I am useless and have no past to reclaim as armor?

Is it the unease of time without companionship as we hide in well insulated nests but away from possible exposure?

I could attribute it to age, but most of us have been categorized as old for quite a while now and survived without these unexpected emotions

Perhaps it is loneliness, but we have all sipped from that cup and emerged without noticeable trauma.

No, I cannot distinguish the surge of unfamiliar feelings that seem to be relentlessly knocking on my heart.

To date, I have been able to reject them, and hopefully I can continue on that road, but I am unsure.

Covid-19 is a strong foe, and perhaps the garment it wears of uncertainty is our biggest enemy. Still I know I dare not descend into the abyss it is now offering relentlessly.

The memorable words of Leonard Cohen come to mind, ‘If It Be Your Will,” and give me the solace of strength.