I’ve been talking to people on the phone less often over the past year. This includes my closest friends, and my mother, all of whom live hours away in my old city. Nobody has done anything wrong to create this distancing.
Some of it is due to the ebbs and flows of friendships. Much of it is due to our lack of proximity. We simply are not part of each other’s lives and haven’t been since I moved away nearly 20 years ago.
I have only visited my old city and seen my friends a handful of times since then. I have no real desire to travel there and disrupt my comfortable life.
Nor do they have an interest in visiting me. Even if they did, I don’t want any house guests. My routine is intentionally comfortable yet quite inflexible.
As for my mother, I could write an entire series of posts. I’ll leave it at this – although we’ve talked frequently over the years since I left home when I was 21, we are not close and haven’t been for a long time.
What I’ve noticed lately, is the less I socialize, the less I want to. I’m satisfied with my face-to-face brief, casual conversations with loose acquaintances. Phone calls usually feel more like a chore. I have to think of things to say. Often it is up to me to carry the conversation.
We’re all pleasant with each other, it’s just that we usually don’t have much to say.
I’m grateful to have these old phone friends, nonetheless. When I need them, they step up with a friendly ear, kind advice and support. I do the same for them.
Lately, we haven’t had that need. This is a good sign because it means none of us are struggling with chaos in our lives or our minds.
When my wife was alive, we spoke for hours everyday. During our last 5 years together, I worked from home and was able to eat lunch with her, walk the dog before dinner and spend even more time with her. We were each other’s best friend as well as companion, spouse and partner.
It’s been 6 1/2 years since she died and I miss her still.
Surprisingly to me, with the exception of my 6 month dating experiment a few years ago and a few half-hearted efforts to connect with people locally, I’ve had no interest in getting close to anyone new.
I once imagined that in my ideal golden years, I’d live in a shack or houseboat on the water in Florida, workout all day long, do my own thing for money, hang out with my dogs and get drunk every night. Doc Ford or Travis McGee were my models for this life.
I no longer drink and I left Florida after my wife died. As for the rest of the fantasy, I’m now kind of living it here in a suburban Raleigh neighborhood.
Go figure.
