All By Myself

At a dinner party I attended last night, I found myself the subject of scrutiny as the conversation turned to my single status.  My dinner companions found my life choices very odd, were not afraid to tell me this, wondered what was the matter with me, and proceeded to pelt me with questions about why I was still single.

I took no offense.  In fact, I found their interest delightful.  Probably because I was dining with five of my nieces and nephews, ages 2 through 6.

The conversation went something like this:

Davy, age 4:  "Do you have a kid?"

Me, age 39:  "Nope."

Davy:  "Why?"

Me:  "Well, I'm not married, so I don't have any kids yet."

Molly, age 5:  "Our mom got married.  To our dad.  That's why he's our dad."

Davy:  "Do you have a dad?"

This caused a great deal of confusion, because I answered that his Papa Bob is my dad, the same as Papa Bob is their dad's dad.  Rather blank stares.  Discussion of siblings, brothers and sisters, etc.  J.J., age 6, got it.  He even remembered that Uncle Greg is also his dad's brother and my brother.

However, I finally figured out that, by "a dad," Davy meant "an adult male father-figure who lives with you and helps raise your kids."  That I do not have.  We continued...

May, age 4:  "So you're alone?"

Me:  "Well, I have my kitties in my house, but, yes, otherwise, I live by myself."

Molly:  "Why are you alone?"

Me:  "Beats the crap out of me."  No, what I actually said was...

Me:  "Oh, honey, if I knew the answer to that...!  Hee hee hee!" 

J.J. had an idea and a possible solution to this mystery:  "Are you a kid?"

This actually makes a lot of sense from their perspective.  When they usually see me, I'm at their Grandma Vicki's and Papa Bob's house or I've arrived at their own house in the same car as my parents.  I do often feel like a "boomerang child" or even a "special" child who has never quite grown up and will never leave home.

Grandma Vicki, age redacted, jumped into the fray:  "No, she's a grown up.  She went to college, and she has a job and her own house..."

May:  "All by herself."  with sorrow?  with awe?

I'm going to go with awe.

Me:  "That's right, darn it!  All by myself!"

And that's what I'm going to hold to.  Sure, I'd rather have had a boyfriend/fiance/husband by my side through this life so far.  It might have been a bit easier, and it surely would have been more fun. 

But I did go to college, moving in and out of the dorm most semesters by myself.  And I have taught in three different high schools.  I moved 1,600 miles across the country to a city where I knew no one and earned my Master's degree.  Then I moved 1,900 miles back across the country to another city where I knew no one.  I've dealt with car trouble and power outages, investigated mysterious noises in the night, and filed my tax returns.

All by myself.  And proud of it.