“One of the oldest human needs is having someone to wonder where you are, when you don’t come home at night.”

– Margaret Mead

In the end, maybe all of family, all of friendship comes down to this.  We need someone to care that we exist.  We need someone to affirm for us that we matter.  As chief cook and bottle washer to my family, I can confess to many days when I would complain that nobody noticed I was missing until their stomachs told them it was dinnertime and there was nothing ready to eat.  I grumbled and whined — just a little — but the truth is that having so many people whose lives were touched by my own was a warm and fuzzy feeling.  Even on the days when I felt just a little bit unappreciated, I was aware that it was a blessing to have such a problem.  It meant that there were people I could expect to love me.  It meant that there were people I could love in return.

I think now of the days when I was a single parent.  On weekends when my children would spend time with their father, I could feel pretty isolated and lonely.  If I decided to travel on those weekends, I would hit the road alone in my ancient car.  These were times without cell phones and texting; and those call boxes along the turnpike were something that caught my eye on the dark ride home.  Another newly-single friend and I formed a pact.  We would let each other know when we were leaving town so that someone would notice if we had not returned safely.  What a wonderful thing it was to have someone who would wonder where we were if something delayed our arrival. Even now, when the hungry hordes would certainly notice that dinner is late, I find myself using my cellphone to check in when I’m running late.  I’m thankful for those numbers to call that represent the people who love me and want to know where I am.

What a great gift it would be this Christmas to share your phone number with someone who lives alone and let them know that they could call you — day or night — just to say, “I made it home through the snowstorm,” or “I’ll be gone for a couple of days,” or “I just wanted to say hello and let you know that I’m okay.”  I can tell you from experience that when you live alone you can never have too much family.  You can never have too many people who think it matters that you arrive safely at home.  As you tuck yourself in tonight, take a moment to be thankful for the people who notice you and care for your safety.  And if you’re running late, please give me a call.  You matter.