On My Own

We miss him terribly (it’s only been thirty six hours) but I am surprised at the condolences that I have been receiving. Somehow a few people think that I am going to have a very difficult week.

I am a little bothered by this pitying. I mean, I do expect to be tired. I am certainly lonely in that short hour after the children are in bed and I must face a quiet, empty house. The bed does seem much bigger, and certainly not as cosy.

But honestly, it is only seven days!

Susannah Moodie, great Canadian pioneer woman and writer, was without her dearest for almost two years, in the back bush of Canada with no money, no idea of when or if he would return and no one to help her out. Their home burned to the ground and she singlehandedly rescued her children and household goods. She survived.

I am not in the back bush. I am not without money. I am not without hope of his return and most of all, I am not without help. (The phone has already rung several times today with dear friends checking in on me.)

This pity seems an insult to so many women who have and continue to parent alone. Single parenting is hard, whatever the reason, whatever the length of time. But such women do not deserve our pity. They deserve our praise, our encouragement, and most of our help.

So as I embark on my week, I am thoughtful and a little trepidatious, but also rather calm. For you see, I know that I’ll get through my week. I’ve got help.