“Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is the richness of self.”

– May Sarton

Last summer, I packed up my favorite-oldest-granddaughter, Ivy, and the two of us took a trip together.  First we flew to Florida to celebrate my parents’ 65th wedding anniversary.  Then we moved on to Atlanta and spent time with my eldest son and his family.  It was such a great thing to travel only with Ivy, and I got to know her in ways that escape us when we live in the midst of a big family.  This year, it will be Mark’s turn to travel with Ivy as they join our son, David, and his daughter, Lily, in a sort of father/daughter trip to the beach.  I will stay home — alone.

Alone.  I really can’t remember the last time I spent an overnight alone.  I do know that we will celebrate our 25th anniversary this year; and I also know that my oldest child will soon be forty.  With many years and many children and grandchildren whose love has enriched our lives, the one thing I can only imagine is being alone.  I know there were times during my years as a single parent when the kids would go for a weekend with their father, but I remember those weekends as the times when I would catch up on projects or sleep as need would dictate.

Everyone I’ve told about my personal vacation seems concerned.  ”What will you do for a whole week all by yourself?” they want to know.  That strikes me as a little bit funny, and I think it slants toward the idea that I will be lonely when left to my own devices.    What is funny is that I have no thoughts about doing at all.  My thoughts are all of being.  On any usual day, I have pockets of solitude that allow me to just be with myself — my early morning walks, my time spent in the garden — and this will not change.  What I hope will build on these pockets of solitude will be a week without electronic noise, without schedules, and without anything that distracts me from spending a vacation with my own bad self.

I think about the gift of traveling with only Ivy last summer — about the ways we connected that were deeper and quieter and more meaningful than our everyday relationship that takes place in the context of our busy life.  I learned things about my granddaughter that I hadn’t known before our adventure, and I know her better than I ever have before.  I look forward to my chance to fly solo for a week, and I’m thinking that I just may learn some new things about myself, too.  A whole week of solitude is something incredible to imagine.  I look forward to spending it with my own best friend.