When my children were small and needy, I dreamed of being home alone. The thought of time in my house to do what I wanted to do sounded like a slice of paradise. Then, suddenly it seemed, my children were grown and gone and my husband took a job requiring travel. Lots of travel. And while i am blessed to accompany him often, I also often find myself (as I do this week) in the midst of my long ago daydreams—alone at home.
His absence doesn’t really change the substance of my days (except that I have unfettered access to our one car!), but the evenings? That’s when the dream begins to differ from reality. At least after the first night. That first night alone is still heaven to this night owl married to an early bird. I get to stay up until my body begs for sleep. I don’t have to make a real dinner or clean up. I can choose to write or to read, watch movies, crochet. I usually end up having to pry myself out of bed the next morning because I didn’t want the night to end!
But the next night and beyond can get rough, even for this introvert. Just like Kevin in the movie Home Alone, I soon realize being alone has its pitfalls, too. I miss mundane conversation with my husband. And the presence of another living thing in 
my house. (And having someone I can get to investigate strange noises!) After a few evenings alone, I get, well, lonely. I wander the house between chapters in my book. Or lose interest after a line of crochet. I surf channels and Netflix and dvds, looking for something to capture my attention until my husband calls for our nightly chat. And I snack way too much! And the weirdness of it all spirals down even more quickly if I don’t interact with people during the day.
Yet in my sometimes isolation I’ve learned a few things. I’ve developed empathy for those I know who always live alone. I appreciate my “normal” life, even when that entails a husband who works long days and who goes to bed—and gets up!—much earlier than I’d prefer. And I know the value of even a short conversation with a friend on a daily basis.
Of course the irony of my time alone is that the moment my husband walks through our door once more, I suddenly remember all the things I wish I’d accomplished while he was gone.
So how do you spend time home alone? What do you do to fill empty evenings?
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When I’m home alone, aside from cleaning or cooking, I love to catch up on emails/Facebook, work a jigsaw puzzle while listening to an audiobook or the news, or read.
All great suggestions. I need to pull out a puzzle. That sounds fun! 🙂
Just last August we rescued the sweetest little dog from the animal shelter. Her name is Belle and she weighs all of 11 pounds. She is my faithful companion so even when no one else is around I’m not alone. The makes me comfortable to just relax and enjoy the quiet to read or watch TV.
Aw. So glad you are happy with your dog! I’ll admit, there are times I miss ours, but living in a high rise makes taking it in and out a huge pain, so I haven’t wanted to go there again now. 🙁
Cleaning!! I can clean any room, make all manner of noise, get down into the nitty gritty places where dust and crumbs settle, and get all sweaty. I did a similar thing when school started. I did a happy dance with a can of Pledge and a bottle of Windex as the kids went out the door.
Oooooh! Can you come over and clean my house, too???? That is definitely NOT something I do with time alone at home!😂
These days my husband and I are both retired. But before my husband retired he worked nights at his job. I am a night person like you. Sometimes I would watch reruns of Fraiser or the Golden girls. Often I would read till one in the morning. Sometimes I would take my Kindle Fire to bed with me and watch a movie in bed. There were also times like you said I would hear strange noises like a banging and thudding somewhere in the house. One night it sounded as though the noise came from our attached garage. Certain I had a burglar I got my car keys and pushed the panic button on the remote. Of coarse the stupid thing didn’t work. With my heart pounding and feet shaking in my slippers the pounding came again and this time I discovered it wasn’t coming from the garage after all but instead coming from behind the closed door in my office / library room just down the hall. Relief flooded through me as I realized that I must have shut my cat, Mr Hobo in that room earlier. These are the things that keep life interesting.
I love that story! Usually the noises we get so frightened over end up being so normal! 🙂