A friend called me on Thanksgiving. Like me, he is a single man who had nobody to spend time with for the holiday. He was lonely.
Although we were both alone for Thanksgiving, how we got to this point was quite different. He’s been a bachelor his entire life. With the exception of a few years when he was coupled up, he never spent the holidays with anyone. I, on the other hand, always had family and loved ones around for the holidays.
My friend has lived a mostly solitary life based around his desires, his interests and himself. His holiday traditions were either “ignore the holidays” or “do something for myself”.
I spent 30 years of my adult life with my wife. Many of those years included her kids and family. Our holiday traditions were built around our family and each other.
In fact, I don’t think I ever spent a Thanksgiving alone in the first 50 years of my life. My first holiday alone was Christmas, two weeks after my wife died. My first Thanksgiving alone was a year later.
I wasn’t lonely this Thanksgiving. As I walked my dog through the neighborhood, I saw adult children visiting their parents. I smelled delicious turkey dinners cooking. The “amateur” walkers were out in full force – packs of kids, parents, grandparents, strollers, scooters, dogs and bikes taking their once a year family walk.
I planned for this season because it’s a tough time of year for me. I had a full schedule mapped out – workout, dog walks, vacuuming, painting, drumming, plus a few calls to friends and then watching football.
My friend, on the other hand, had planned nothing. By the day’s end, he was sad and lonely.
I was thinking about this today. Both my friend and I could have joined someone for Thanksgiving. We would have had to ask for an invitation. Or we would have had to invite another solo person to join us for a meal.
We both know other people who told us they were doing nothing for Thanksgiving. We also know kind people who would have invited us to join them in a heartbeat, if they thought we were lonely. Or, if we had asked.
This year, I didn’t want to join anyone. My first two solo Thanksgivings were rough. I had made up my mind that this year was going to be different. Still I had to steel myself for it and wasn’t ready for company.
And so I spent the holiday alone.
Next year, I think I’ll connect with another solo friend for dinner – probably at a restaurant.
I told my friend that if he didn’t want to be alone next year, he needed to ask someone for an invitation or extend an invitation for someone to join him. Otherwise, being sad that “nobody invited me even though I would have turned them down anyway” would likely happen again.
It occurred to me that both of us – in vastly different ways- made our beds and now have to lie in them.
Him, by intentionally designing a solitary bachelor life. Me, by building my life exclusively around my wife and work, plus relocating multiple times, to the detriment of making friends and maintaining strong social ties.
Life is full of choices. I don’t regret the choices I made to be with my wife. Sometimes I wish I had settled down permanently in a community, made friends and built a history. But that’s as productive as wishing I had pursued Engineering in College and had a career as an engineer.
I’ll lie in the bed I made.
If I want it to change, I’ll have to do something about it.